


His Wolfish Charm

by Everythingjonsa



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everythingjonsa/pseuds/Everythingjonsa
Summary: Getting her first taste of freedom also meant that she was now her Boss's neighbor - Her Boss Jon Snow - whom she had known all her life, who was her brother's best friend. Of course the fact that Jon was King's Landing's resident playboy didn't ease matters. Sansa knows all about Jon's reputation and yet, acting on a whim, she does the one thing she shouldn't ever do.Jon Snow has never looked at Sansa as anything but his buddy's little sister, until she moves into his spare apartment, his office and his life.Jon has always kept all his relationships, casual and fun. Everyone knows that, which is why any involvement with Sansa could mean risking his friendship with Robb - a risk Jon can't afford. However, Sansa makes his life brilliantly difficult by complicating matters with a simple wish which spark off a series of events that Jon cannot control.Jon must now decide, if he's ready to risk his heart or lose the woman who completes him.





	1. Be careful what you wish for

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dearies!! This fic, once again, started with a prompt that I got on tumblr and since many of you thought that I should turn it into a proper fic, here I am doing (Trying lol) exactly that. Unlike, Snowed under by your love, I'm hoping this remains a lighthearted, fun-filled story. Thank you so much for all the love you keep giving me and my stories!!

Sansa Stark had a broad smile on her face as she hummed her favourite song ‘wonderwall’ on the way to the parking lot. She had had a very fulfilling first week at work, and she was going back to her huge spacious apartment to cook food for herself and sip a glass of wine, along with her dinner – _All alone!_

She took a deep breath as she placed her bag of groceries, in the back seat of the car. Living all by herself for the first time in her life, was really a huge welcome change. Sansa thought about her family back at Winterfell and did feel a slight amount of guilt at how she was enjoying her new found freedom and space. It’s not like she did not miss them. But she’d wanted to come to King’s Landing for such a long time and now that she was finally here, this was truly like a dream come true.

Sansa Stark came from a well-known family in the north and Winterfell was her hometown. She lived in a huge farm in the countryside which was always filled to the brim with people. Ned and Catelyn Stark - her parents, Sansa and her siblings - Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon, Ned’s brother Benjen Stark and his wife Natalie and their children Rodrik, Osric and Karlon, Grandpa Rickard and Grandma Lyarra, all lived together as one big joint family. Also, her father and Uncle had their offices at home which meant, for every meal that was served in her house, there were always a minimum of fifteen to twenty people at all times. It’s not like there was ever a lack of space owing to the fact that the Starks were the wealthiest family in all of Winterfell but life in general, did get crowded and cramped.

Besides, since Sansa and Arya were the only two girls among all the Stark children, the excessive presence of testosterone meant that they were surrounded by over-possessive males throughout their lives. Arya had rebelled against that in her own way, cutting her hair short, running away from all things girly and she’d succeeded to a point where her brothers and cousins often forgot that Arya was a girl, commonly referring to her as Arry – which meant that Sansa had to bear the brunt of being their ‘I’m protective about my sister’ scapegoat.  It didn’t help matters that her brother Robb and her twin cousins Rod and Os, were built like mighty stone pillars, and had quite the reputation of being bulls - for half of the boys in Winterfell were absolutely petrified of them. Out of the other half that remained, most were deemed unworthy by the men in her life; some were intimidated by the Stark name and the few that managed to stay brave, lost all courage the moment they saw her father’s sombre stern face. He couldn’t really help it. He had a face like that!

As a result, Sansa’s love life never took off to begin with. So, it could never be judged, as either interesting or boring. She’d never had a boyfriend and she was twenty-two! Most girls her age told her wonderful stories, of not just their love lives but also their sex lives. When she’d graduated out of Winterfell’s school of Architecture, she’d expressed her desire to work in King’s Landing instead of her family furniture business and her idea had been shot down faster than the swatting of a fly. Finally her brother Robb had taken pity on her and presented to her father, a proposal, he couldn’t refuse.

Sansa pulled her car into the parking lot of her residence. As she collected her shopping bags and entered the elevator, she couldn’t help the spring that came automatically into her step. She was definitely going to enjoy her stint in Black Castle which was a very renowned Architecture Firm in all of Kings Landing. Of course she knew all about it, she thought, clutching her bag of groceries to her chest as she heard her phone ping. It was Arya!

_Enjoying your freedom?_

 I am a little bird and I have wings. LOL

_I am jealous. The boys are driving me crazy. They’ve suddenly decided I am a girl too._

Sansa couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her. Awwww Arry… How cute!

_No! How Ewww! Will you let me stay with you?_

Absolutely not.

_I will cook for you.._

I have no interest in eating burnt food.

_I will housekeep for you?_

I can’t afford to have my apartment smell like a morgue.

_Dammit! I’ll wear that horrid frock you gifted me for my birthday._

Sansa almost dropped her phone when she saw the message.

Arya Stark – you are desperate and bored. And probably missing me a lot too. Admit it! Our fights were the highlight of your life.

_Buy me something good that is not a stupid frock and I won’t destroy your room or make it smell like a pig sty._

You wouldn’t dare!

_Try me._

Sansa smiled thinking about her sister. It was only Sansa who’d always recognised the hidden Arya who was clothed as Arry. She understood that Arya liked being a girl too. She was not running away from her femininity. She was just rebelling against its pre-set definition and the rules associated with it. So though, they got into a lot of fights, as they grew up, Sansa was the one Arya always came to when it was feelings time, confession time or boys-talk time. Of course, Sansa had learnt to decode Arya’s ramblings very well.

Anything that began with, “That douchebag Gendry ….” meant Arya wanted to talk about her almost-boyfriend-but-will-never-admit–it friend. Anything that began with “How can you wear that horrible dress….” meant that Arya wanted to borrow Sansa’s clothes for a special occasion. Anything that began with “God, you look like a witch with all that awful make up …” meant she wanted Sansa to force her to wear make-up so she could feel less guilty about wanting to look pretty. And so Sansa always played along; for she knew that someday, Arya will be more forthcoming and less conscious about being a woman.

The elevator opened with a ding and as Sansa walked into the corridor, the silly grin on her face was completely wiped replacing her facial expression with that of a deer caught in the headlights.

“Oh Jon... Yes...yes.. Aanngh Unngh” 

Sansa stared at the scene in front of her eyes, unable to move from the spot. How could she? If she had to get to her apartment, she had to cross the couple plastered against the door of the penthouse opposite to hers, though judging by the way their mouths were fused and their hands in places she didn’t dare name, she wondered if she could tiptoe past them and just disappear without getting noticed. But her neighbour was not just any other neighbour. This was Jon Snow, her brother’s best friend, whom she’d known all her life, who had kindly offered her not just a job at Black Castle - an architecture firm _he owned_ but also his luxurious spare apartment for her to live in while she settled into King’s Landing. _He_ was the reason she was standing here, in King’s landing.

Ned Stark had agreed to send her out of Winterfell only because Jon Snow was a family friend, Lyanna Snow’s son and Robb’s best friend. Of course Robb had completely left out the part about Jon being a man whore, which was common knowledge, even when Jon was finishing his studies in Winterfell, because according to Robb that was not of any importance. Sansa was as much a sister to Jon, as she was to the Stark boys. Robb Stark had decided and his decision was final!

But she worked for Jon now. So, he was not just her neighbour and good friend, but also her super super boss.

_This was indeed a complication - a terrible complication_. 

The colour rose to Sansa’s face as she saw Jon’s hand wandering deeper and deeper into the blonde girl’s skirt and she decided that it was time she turned around and ran hard and fast in the opposite direction to save her and Jon from the embarrassment this situation brought. It’s not like she hadn’t discovered her brothers or cousins in such compromising positions but something about the wild abandon with which Jon was touching the blonde girl, caused her insides to twist and knot and she felt almost weak.

But fate did not allow her escape, for just as she swivelled, her heel broke and she tripped, dropping the bag of groceries she was holding, promptly landing, rather ungracefully, on scattered oranges with an audible squash. 

“Sansa.. Shit..” she heard Jon curse loudly behind her, seconds before his strong hands pulled her back up in a standing position. Sansa knew an orange was still stuck to her thigh but she didn’t want to look more inelegant than she already did, by plucking it out from under her black skirt. So she let it stay there, hoping Jon would just leave her alone soon and get back to his... business. 

“Are you alright?” he asked her, his hands still lingering on her upper arms. Sansa hoped she didn’t look as red as she felt. The blonde woman behind him had straightened her clothes and was now looking at her curiously. 

“Yes, I am fine. Thank you.” she said and put her right foot forward, realizing a little too late that it was the very shoe which had a broken heel and so she tumbled straight into the arms of the very man she was trying to escape. 

“Woah...” Jon held her steady with one arm and looked apologetically at his company for the night. “Val, I’m sorry but umm.. could we …..errr…..do..this some other time?”

Could we do  _this_  some other time? Sansa almost fainted with shock. Really! These were the words he chose?

“NO!” Sansa protested, twisting in his iron grip but he held on to her. “Jon, I am alright. Really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

The blonde girl smiled brightly at Jon as she sauntered towards him and kissed him soundly on his lips, and Sansa knew she was blushing brightly. This had to be the highest level of PDA she’d ever had to witness.

“This night was over the minute you called me, Val.” Said the girl, surprisingly giving Jon a very friendly smile “My name is Sally, Jon Snow”

She then turned towards Sansa and blew her a kiss. “You didn’t have to try so hard, love. He was yours, the second he saw you.”

Yes, it had happened to her finally, thought Sansa dismally. The moment where she felt – why couldn’t the earth just swallow her up? Why didn’t she possess Harry’s cloak of invisibility. Why?

Sally now looked at Jon, a laugh etched on her beautiful face. “Let me present to both you asshats, the simple solution to the problem, which both of you somehow seem oblivious to.” She simply bent down and pulled off both of Sansa’s shoes.  And just like that she walked out of the corridor making Sansa feel like an idiot of the first order. Also, now the air felt so brittle with thick tension that Sansa felt it would snap. If it didn’t, she would.

Jon released Sansa, like she’d burnt him, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “Right, so now that it’s been established that I lack both manners and intelligence, I am wondering what else this night has in store for me.”

Somehow the ever confident Jon who always exuded an aura of self-assurance, looking foolishly embarrassed made a very comical picture. A smile slowly appeared on Sansa’s face which soon changed into a giggle and Jon’s head snapped in her direction. The corners of his mouth too turned slightly and before she knew it both Jon and Sansa had burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god! You... called he-her V-Val!” Sansa said wiping the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. 

“I ... re-really thought her name was Val.” Jon was holding his stomach. “I’m pretty sure Val’s her twin sister then.”

“OH Jon!” cried Sansa, her stomach hurting with all the laughing. “You are impossible! H-How do these women tolerate you?”

Jon’s laughter ebbed a little at her question. “Do you really want to know?”

Sansa’s laughter died down at that too. She didn’t answer that question. His question bothered her. She didn’t dare think that he asked that flirtatiously. She simply stood up and started picking up her scattered items. Jon immediately jumped in to help her. “I’m sorry, you had to see me like that.” He apologized to her with a genuine expression on his face. 

“It’s alright, Jon.” said Sansa affably. “Maybe next time a man has me pinned to my door, we could call it even.”

For a second Jon’s movements stilled and his body became rigid. He regarded Sansa very seriously. “You can’t be influenced by my actions, Sansa. I am a jerk. It is known.” He stood up with her, and handed her the bags as he smiled down at her. “Besides, Robb has given me standing instructions to...”

“Murder any guy who comes near me?” Sansa asked Jon, rolling her eyes. “Please! I am not 16 anymore. I am all grown up now.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Jon said his eyes locked with hers and Sansa felt an unfamiliar sensation attack her senses. He bent a little to retrieve the orange that had unwantedly travelled down from her thigh. When his fingers brushed her calf, Sansa inhaled loudly and Jon instantly looked up at her sharply. 

“Oops!” said Sansa louder than needed, probably wanting to talk over the audible sound of her heart thudding wildly in her chest. “Can’t be using that one anymore..” She laughed, trying her level best to cover the huskiness in her voice. Then she tried a desperate change in topic. “I hope this is not awkward Jon. Me working for you, when I’ve known you all my life.”

Jon smiled, tossing the squashed orange into a trash can nearby, then looked at Sansa as he absently licked the juice off his fingers. Suddenly Sansa experienced the feeling of being chucked into a raging hot furnace, for such was the heat that erupted from within her. Somehow, Jon’s actions felt very intimate, considering where the orange had been just moments before. But Jon didn’t seem to notice Sansa’s affliction and she thanked god for small mercies. 

“You know the minute I step into the office, I morph into another person.” He said with a casual shrug of his broad shoulders and Sansa knew how true that was. She’d observed him from afar. He was a tough task master and made people quake with a simple stare. It was a good thing that she didn’t have to work, directly under him. He took a step forward and touched her cheek with his palm. “I hope you understand why I need to be that person.”

“Yes Sir” said Sansa, hoping he couldn’t feel how hot her cheeks had become. 

Jon took a step forward and kissed her forehead and the simple kiss lasted longer than she imagined it would. He withdrew and almost leaned in towards her and Sansa’s heart stopped beating altogether. But then he gave a slight nod, and said “Goodnight, Sansa.” and walked into his apartment. 

Sansa rushed into hers and shut the door behind her. Wasn’t there a saying – Be careful what you wish for? Here, was everything she had ever craved for, everything she’d hoped for - freedom, independence, making her own mark in the world. But now, thrown in that mix was Jon Snow - childhood friend, Casanova, neighbour, dangerous boss and latest addition  - Biggest CRUSH ever! Sansa groaned loudly.

_This was indeed a complication - a terrible complication._

 


	2. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I'd like to thank Rebecca for doing such a meticulous job, proof reading my writing for errors. Your work is so very organised and efficient and I am really very impressed. A big thank you, from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> Thank you Melissa, for urging me to write this 'wolfish' story. And yes I know that you're going to tell me to get back to writing Snowed, so that's coming up next, I promise. I don't know how my day will ever be complete without talking to you. Thanks for all the help with choosing the title. I hope you get better soon, so I don't have to feel guilty about bothering you endlessly and demand that you do my ART, LOL!! There's something for you in the end notes as well!!
> 
> My lovely Neha!! You seemed to have taken my previous comments to heart (in a good way, lol!!) But the outcome was fantastic, fabulous and I am truly happy that you're making me think about everything that I am writing and whether or not it's conveying/communicating the right thing. And not just that, I am very impressed with all the reference links that you send me, to support your point. It helps me write better. Thank you so very much for everything you are doing for me. I love you and you know it!!

 

“And that’s how I scored the tenth goal!” exclaimed Edd and the rest of the boys cheered. Jon put down his empty pint of beer, after draining the remaining contents in one gulp. “Alright guys!” he said looking at his watch. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

All of a sudden, the cheerful mood in their booth changed. Sam and Edd looked at him like he’d suddenly grown two horns. Grenn looked around him in a drunken stupor, as though it was someone else and not Jon who had said those words. Sam looked at his watch and then back at Jon, as though he’d definitely got something wrong. “But, it’s just seven, Jon. Technically, you can’t even call it a night.”

“Cause it’s still evening?” Grenn asked with a raised brow and an unnecessary debate about the fine line of distinction between evening and night began around him. Jon shook his head smiling. This is what happened, when your cronies were nerds at heart, if not in appearance.

“It doesn’t matter” Jon broke into the discussion which was now steadily turning into a heated argument and all their attentions were back on him. “I have to get home early tonight.”

“Are you feeling sick, man?” Edd looked at him with a worried expression. Then suddenly his expression cleared and he sighed. “Wait! This is your new game to hook up with that brunette who’s been staring at you from the bar, isn’t it? To act like the good guy we all know you’re not?”

“Wait, what?” said Jon looking across at the bar and sure enough there was a hot brunette smiling down at him and he knew with one look at her, that this was an open invitation. All he had to do to score was get up and walk towards her.

“Well, kill me!” exclaimed Sam with utter surprise and shock etched on his features. “You really didn’t notice her, did you? That’s a fucking first!” he said, taking a huge swig from his pint. “Jon Snow, not being able to spot a woman – a hot woman – hitting on him.” His mouth twitched as he looked back at Jon, curiosity written all over his face. “Exactly, why do you have to get home early tonight?”

Jon hesitated slightly, but only just, before replying. “Sansa’s cooking tonight and it will look terribly rude if I turn up late for dinner.”

“Ahhhhhhh…” His three friends exclaimed in unison. “Sansa!”

Jon hated the fact that he coloured slightly. Of course, it was obvious that his friends would misunderstand. They’d probably never seen him share a purely platonic relationship with any woman before. It was in their nature to jump to conclusions, the minute he uttered any woman’s name other than that of his mother’s. “I’m not sleeping with her. It’s not like that between us.”

To his surprise, Grenn nodded his head. “We know that. We just think you’re the luckiest bastard alive.”

“What?” Jon creased his brows as a laugh escaped him. “Why would you say that?”

Edd turned to look at Sam. “You tell him Sam.”

Jon looked at Sam and then at Edd, wondering why this suddenly felt like an intervention. Samwell Tarly put on his ‘Sage Face’ and turned to look at Jon. “Because you can sleep with any woman in the world and yet go back home to your… wife.” Sam cocked a brow “Without any complications.”

Jon thought, for a moment, that he’d misheard Sam. But then Sam was still looking at him with a knowing look and a raised brow. Now, it was Jon’s turn to look bewildered. “Sansa? My wife?” Jon looked around at his friends incredulously “You guys have either had too much to drink or you’re all out of your minds.”

“You’ve _wife-zoned_ Sansa. Just admit it.” Said Edd rolling his eyes and Jon couldn’t help himself when he heard this new term. He laughed out loud.

“Wife-zoned?” Jon opened another pint of beer. What the hell! He needed more drink for this conversation. “That is NOT a term. Whatever does that even mean?”

Sam got a twinkle in his eye and Jon groaned inwardly. Sam was about to make a speech. “You see Jon..” he began and Edd mouthed a ‘Keep it short Tarly’ and he got a scrunched nose from Sam for that but then his focus was back on Jon. “The woman in the wife-zone is the one for whom you’ve not yet realised you have feelings for. You respect her, trust her, enjoy hanging out with her, yet don’t sleep with her because you’re afraid to ruin your relationship with her.” Jon rolled his eyes and Sam added. “You can do the eye-roll all you want but it’s true. Though, all this is in your subconscious.   _She_ is the one who domesticates you. She appeals to your primal instincts of being territorial, protective, possessive – but you won’t understand it even when you’re doing it. When she’s in your life, you won’t notice her. When she’s out of it, you’ll drown – it’s when the realisation phase begins actually. And you - Jon Snow – have placed Sansa in this zone.” 

“WoW!” said Jon standing up, utterly unimpressed with Sam’s speech. “There’s actually a simpler explanation to this whole thing.” He finished his entire pint in one long gulp and set it down with a soft thud. “Sansa’s cooking dinner and it tastes better than sex.” He winked at his friends. “And you should trust my judgement because I have far more experience than you lot.” He winked wolfishly at his friends who all started talking simultaneously, defending their lack of experience.

As Jon swaggered away from his friends feeling slightly triumphant that he’d had the last word in the conversation, he vaguely heard Edd say ‘The way to a man’s heart, is through his fucking stomach… You know nothing, Jon Snow.’

 

                                                                                             -----------------------------------------------

 

Jon turned the doorknob of Sansa’s apartment after he heard her say that the door was not locked. He very much intended to tell her that though it was just him and her on this floor, leaving the door unlocked was not really a wise thing to do. This was King’s Landing, not Winterfell. The crime rate here was far higher than it was in Winterfell, where people didn’t bother to lock their homes. But all coherent thoughts left Jon as the rich aroma of something divinely delicious wafted down and beckoned him towards it. Sansa turned her head around, greeting him with a dazzling smile that lit her whole face and surprisingly the atmosphere around them. She still wore a white lace apron over her chambray frock, her fiery red hair secured in an informal bun at the nape of her neck. “You’re early!” she exclaimed, although she didn’t look unhappy about it.

Jon drifted towards the kitchen, clutching the bottle of wine he’d bought on the way home. “I overestimated the traffic on the road.” He said. I was desperate to eat food cooked by you, he meant. “Pray tell me, what is this you’ve managed to conjure which has me salivating in anticipation?”

Sansa let out a laugh, as she placed the chicken on the dining table, which she’d already set up beautifully. “We’re eating Chicken Marsala with some freshly baked bread.” She said dashing into the open kitchen to fetch the salad bowl. “And this is the side salad – Romanian lettuce with chunks of fresh mozzarella and tomatoes and cucumbers, sprinkled with basil and raspberry vinaigrette dressing and oh….” She said grabbing the bottle of wine from Jon’s hand which he was still foolishly holding on too. “Chardonnay… Brilliant! Perfectly paired with the dish…” She took off her apron and neatly folded it, before placing it in one of the kitchen drawers. She gave Jon a searching look. “Are you ready to eat?”

Jon didn’t have to reply, for his stomach gave an answering growl. He was SO ready! Jon pulled out a chair for Sansa to which she said, “Jon, you don’t have to do this.”

“I do.” He replied, before sitting opposite her in her small and compact dining table meant for four. Jon didn’t waste any more time as he served himself the food and poured the wine into their glasses. After their glasses clinked and the first succulent piece of chicken hit his taste buds, Jon knew he was moaning like he was having a food orgasm. “Sansa, you’re a witch, you know that right?”

“And you’re Hansel?” She joked, letting out a soft giggle, and he enjoyed the sound of it. Jon sipped his wine. “You’ve spoilt me rotten with your fabulous cooking, do you know that?. Ugh.. No wonder the Stark men don’t want you Stark women gone from Winterfell. All Stark women are wonderful cooks.”

Sansa held her finger up. “That is not true. My Grandma is the only true Stark woman. She’s a Stark who married a Stark. My mom’s a Tully by birth. Aunt Natie is a Mormont. My mother insists that I am half Stark – half Tully. And besides, there are always exceptions to the rule.”

Jon laughed, stuffing a mouthful of salad in his mouth and held his hands up in defeat. “Okay, you northern women are wonderful cooks. I’m including my mother on that list by the way. And before you think my view is misogynistic I’d have you know that I think Robb Stark makes the best sandwiches and noodles in the world.” Jon bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing as Sansa frowned at him.

“My brother?” she cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”

“Robb made the best cup noodles in the world!” Jon explained going red from the attempt of holding back his laughter. He put his fork down. “Do you know that he had a special measuring cup in college that his mom had sent with him, to measure the amount of water he had to boil to pour into the cup noodles?” Sansa was now staring crossly at him, obviously feeling defensive about her brother. Jon couldn’t help the laughter that was now begging for release. “What? You should’ve seen Robb, cautiously measuring the amount of water one needed _for cup noodles_ , for crying out loud, like it were a complicated chemistry experiment and the whole dorm would explode if he got three extra drops of dangerously hot water into it.”

Sansa tried her level best to continue looking cross, but her lush lips quivered and she let out a laugh. “Oh Robb! He’ll always be a mama’s boy, in spite of how tough he appears to be. But really, if you thought this about Robb, I can assure you that he’s definitely better than Arya.”

“Ah!” said Jon, picking up his fork again and digging into his food. “The exception to the rule!”

“Do you remember the time Grandma forced Arya to bake bread?” Sansa’s blue eyes twinkled.

 Jon almost choked on his food when he remembered the incident. “Oh don’t remind me about it! I don’t want to be rolling on the floor just now.” Jon swallowed the food he was chewing unable to make his mind stop conjuring images from the past. “Other than the fact that the bread looked like it was sprouting limbs, it was so …umm.. durable, if I may use the word, that your Grandfather’s dentures came out with the bread, upon his first bite.” Jon was now roaring with laughter and so was Sansa. An image of a very enraged, Lyarra Stark running round and round in circles after Arya around the long dining table, smacking her with the bread she’s baked, came before his eyes and he had to wipe the tears flowing from his eyes, his eyes reddening from all the laughter.

“Stop! Seriously..” Sansa was desperately trying to control her laughter too. After the mirth ebbed a bit, Sansa bit her lower lip as though she was contemplating how best to say whatever she had on her mind. “You know, it’s true that Arya’s a bad cook. But there isn’t a single person in all of Westeros, who can fence like her. You should see her with a sabre in her hand. She’s the most dangerous opponent you could ever hope to have.”

Jon leaned forward, looking deeply into the blue eyes of one Stark girl who was trying to, in a way, stand up for the other Stark girl with grey eyes – like she’d done all her life. “I can see the pride in your eyes, Sansa.” He took another helping of the chicken. “Don’t worry. I am not judging Arya. I never will. Cooking is an art which some are good at and some are not. There’s no given rule for any gender to excel at any activity. I really believe in that.” He saw the defensive shield in Sansa’s eyes disappear, replaced by a soft look. He smiled. “And you don’t have to feel guilty for making fun of Arya. It’s just me here. Besides, I for one, am worse than Arya at Cooking ** _but_**..” He paused donning a cocky expression as Sansa looked up at him curiously. “I am better than her at fencing.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease! Arya’s the agilest, most alert creature that walked this earth. Anyway, I will be team Arya forever but I’ve heard Robb go on and on about your clobbering skills, which excites Robb undoubtedly. I didn’t know you follow the graceful sport of fencing.”

“Follow?” Jon expressed mock shock as he gently put his fork down, deciding that his stomach couldn’t take anymore food. He made a mental note to run two extra rounds in the morning. He had no intention of ruining his six-pack. “I lead.”

“Are you always this arrogant?” Sansa asked playfully, as she got up from the table to get the empty dished and Jon instantly caught her hand to stop her from doing it. “You did the cooking. I’ll do the cleaning.”

Sansa looked at their intertwined hands and took a step backwards. Jon immediately got to the task of clearing the table. Sansa sat on the countertop of the kitchen holding her glass of wine as Jon put on gloves to do the dishes. When he realised she was smiling at him like a Cheshire cat, he narrowed his eyes. “What is so funny?”

Sansa bit her lower lip in an attempt to stop her smile from spreading more, and quite inadvertently, Jon’s attention was drawn to the shape of her full mouth. _Was her mouth just as luscious and soft as it looked?_ – said a hidden voice in his head. _Curiosity killed the Cat, remember?_ – countered his logical brain. _Just do the damn dishes, Jon Snow_ – he told himself gritting his teeth.

“It’s just, what would your employees think if they ever saw you like this?” Sansa was giggling now and Jon instantly gave her a dark look. “Hold that face!” Sansa said suddenly jumping off the counter holding her palms in front of Jon like she had a camera in her hand. Her wine glass lay forgotten on the counter. “This is exactly how you look at work, Jon.” She put on a fake scowl on her features. “I am Jon Snow and my glower, which is patented by the way, is the reason for the high productivity in my office.”

Jon took off his gloves, one by one and slapped then near the sink. “Are you teasing me, Sansa Stark?” He still had a small smile on his face but he was looking at her far more intently than he should.

Sansa lowered her eyes and then looked back up at him from under long lashes and Jon suddenly felt like he was hit by the lightning blue of her eyes. “Sorry..” she said genuinely as she took a step towards him. “But when I see you at work, I don’t recognise you at all. People literally jump apart to give you way. I am not scared of you but I’ve seen the other women look at you. You make them quiver.”

Suddenly a brash smile adorned Jon’s face. He took a step towards Sansa, the distance between them reduced to a bare minimum. “That I do. I make them quiver.” He took one more step and Sansa had to take a step back to increase the gap between them. He could see that she was no longer smiling. “I make them quiver with fear, during the day; and with pleasure at night.” Sansa backed up against the counter and Jon followed her there. The air around them had gone static; he could almost hear it crackling. But the words continued to flow out of his mouth. “I glower in the morning…” He placed one hand, right next to her, on the counter, eliciting a small, barely heard gasp from her slightly parted mouth. He made an effort to drag his eyes back to hers “I smoulder at night…” He placed his other hand, effectively trapping her between his hands, but he dared not touch her. “I am a dragon by the day…” Her face, which had gone visibly red, was just a heartbeat away. “But a WOLF by night.” Sansa’s breathing was laboured now, matching his own raspy breaths. He allowed himself the pleasure of going closer to her, and he was engulfed in the scent of her. “I breathe fire during the day but I am a dangerous predator at night. You ought to be scared of me, Sansa Stark, on both counts.”

The next instant he’d pushed himself off of the counter and donned the gloves he’d discarded earlier. He cast a side-ward glance at her and saw her place one palm below her collarbone. She looked at him warily and Jon burst out laughing, a little louder perhaps, than he’d meant to. “You think, you’re the only one who can tease, do you?”

Relief flooded Sansa’s features but she looked at him irately. “You deserve your reputation, do you know that?”

Jon chuckled as he shut the tap off. “I know that, thank you.” He discarded his gloves once again and dried his hands on the kitchen towel. “Nothing inappropriate is going to happen between us Sansa, despite, how do I put it….my famed repute.” He said, sounding more casual than he’s intended. He saw her looking at him intently and he rolled his eyes in mock horror. “Other than the fact that I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my friendship with your brother, you can rest assured that I have no intention of having all the weapons in your grandpa’s weapon shelf pointed at me.” He took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her palm. Her skin was the softest and she smelled like a sweet fruit – a forbidden one, nonetheless. “Thank you so much for dinner. I know I sound needy but please don’t stop stacking those mouth-watering casseroles in my fridge, because of my horrible behaviour.”

Sansa’s face broke into a beautiful smile and Jon once again made a mental note that he had to go on a date. ASAP. Every word he had carefully constructed to cover up his earlier lapse would be an absolute waste if he didn’t distract his mind with his usual play. He’d gone without a date or a hook-up since his encounter with Sansa in the corridor. Of course, he convinced himself that this had nothing to do with Sansa. He’d just gone on without a woman’s company for far too long. Two weeks was a long time, in Jon’s world.

He was caught off guard when she playfully smacked his arm. “I won’t do that, and you know it. Besides, your mom and my mom are involved in this conspiracy of stacking homemade food in your fridge.”

“Ah!” Jon said placing his palm across his heart, with mock hurt on his face. “And here I thought you were concerned about me. Anyway, feel free to sneak in and stock my fridge anytime.”

Sansa playfully traced a button on his shirt with her index finger, her eyes twinkling with mischief, and Jon suddenly felt like Sansa was the centre of gravity, pulling his entire being towards her. He stepped away from her as soon as her hand dropped to her side. “I think I’m going to avoid night-time.” She said looking into his eyes with meaning. “You see, I don’t mind the Dragon’s fire but I don’t want to get lost, in the wolf’s lair.”

Jon swallowed hard as he exited Sansa’s door. _This was a complication, he thought, a terrible complication._

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone of you felt hungry or your mouth watered after reading what Sansa cooked for Jon, Melissa is to blame. Since I didn't know the first thing about creating a good menu, my Beta chef whipped it up for me. Her words, her menu, her recipe. If you want to know how to make it, you can hound her. LOL!!


	3. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All! I've always believed in the power of love, kindness and compassion . In my experience, every single act which has it's roots in the aforementioned emotions always, always yields positive results. It may take its time, it may not happen immediately. But it will happen. And when it does, there's always a positive ripple effect. 
> 
> I know the name of this chapter is Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken and it's a call back to season 5 when Sansa was brutally raped by Ramsay Bolton. Though, there is ABSOLUTELY NO RELATION to that in my story which is a light-hearted romance. I'd still like to point out that, even though there are the words of House Martell in the books, the show runners probably chose to name this episode "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken" when Sansa underwent an ordeal worse than death. I see that as a subtle salute to the spirit of Sansa Stark. Even while her body, heart and mind was being broken, her spirit remained Unbowed, unbent and unbroken. She rose out of it like a phoenix from the ashes, took back her home with Jon, had Ramsay killed, took back the north, did a fabulous job of being queen in the north. She never let anything dampen or break her spirit. 
> 
> We all go through many ordeals in life. But the important lesson to learn from Sansa is what the title suggests. To never let anything or anyone defeat us. To rise every time we fall. To remain forever - Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken!! Wishing you and you near and dear ones a love-filled new year. 
> 
> I know that got a bit heavy but I had to get that off my chest. Hope you enjoy this chapter!! Tell me if you liked it. I'd be thrilled to know.

Sansa Stark had always prided herself on being a great judge of character. She’d always accurately predicted the endings of all of her brother’s relationships, which was quite a large number since Robb fell in love nearly as often as he caught a cold. She was certain that Gendry was in fact very much in love with Arya and vice versa but was sure that both of those idiots would sooner jump into a pond full of crocodiles rather than admit their true feelings for each other. She knew very well that Jon was the kind of man, your mother warned you about, which by the way, her mother had forgotten to do, hence _she_ was probably to blame for the lapse in judgement that Sansa had experienced, for the first time in her life. NO! It was not Jon she’d misjudged. She’d underestimated - herself.

Sansa gritted her teeth as she tried to concentrate on a drawing that she was working on. From the day she’d seen Jon in that corridor, Sansa had morphed into a person she hardly recognised anymore. Her traitorous body had long stopped listening to the good sense that still prevailed in some dark corner of her brain, for the minute Jon came into viewing radius, her body seemed to sense his presence automatically, and then all the usual symptoms would begin.

_Heart pounding, pulse racing, shortness of breath, breaking out in cold sweat, light-headedness, hot and cold flushes._

If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought she was definitely having a heart attack, every time the man with the dark wild curls wandered near her. Who would’ve thought that the perfect Miss Sansa Stark was, in fact, falling for the King’s landing’s resident playboy?

Sansa gripped the pencil in her hand harder, her fingertips going white with the pressure. _Stop. Thinking. About him_ , she commanded her brain, but unfortunately, her mind was just as obedient as a rebellious teenager. It promptly went back to the very devil that Sansa was trying very desperately to not think about. Also, there was very little one could do when said devil had his office on the first floor, overlooking the rest of their cubicles from above, where you could see him pacing or working or glowering or whatever the hell he did because of the transparent glass that encased his office cabin - no doubt a product of his ingenious designing skills, intended to torture naïve little girls like herself who’d left their brains and wits back where they came from. 

 _Huffffffff_ , Sansa exhaled audibly. She was indeed a naïve little girl. What had she been thinking when Jon had come over for dinner. She’d almost flirted with him. And when he’d teased her back? When he’d entrapped her between his solid, muscular arms? When she had almost been able to feel - his breath on her face, his ridiculously full mouth so close to her own? She recalled his husky whisper.

‘ _I am a dragon by the day… But a WOLF by night.’_

 _Sweet Merciful God_! It had been torture of the worst kind. His every word had had an effect equivalent to that of a thousand lightning bolts. She’d never felt more awakened, more alive than she’d felt in that moment. Every pore in her body had been aware of his nearness. She’d wanted him to touch her, so very much that she’d almost reached out to him. God! What a disaster that would have been!

Sansa knew her face had turned beet red and so she hid her face partially by placing a palm on her forehead. Jon had told her seconds later that he had only been teasing her. Nothing was ever going to happen between them, he’d made it crystal clear, and Sansa thought she’d literally been able to hear a clattering sound in her ears as her heart shattered to smithereens. Also judging by the heavy feeling lump that had settled in place of her crushed heart, she was acutely aware that now she was also developing some ‘feelings’ for Jon Snow. In short, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Hey Sans, are you alright?” asked Joshua, her co-worker, and Sansa snapped out of her daze. Joshua Bolton had been such a kind friend to her from the very first day of work. She’d almost been sure that his name was somehow familiar. Anyway, he was her senior, but he’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable. They were both working on the same project. He was tall, lean and athletic, with wavy blonde hair and kind blue eyes. Why couldn’t she have fallen for someone like him? Sansa cursed herself. NO, but her heart had to go boom boom for that dark-haired fiend!

Sansa smiled back at him affably. “I am okay, Josh. Just thinking about my family.” Sansa lied for good measure. No one in her office knew her connection with Jon or the fact that they were neighbours now. Tongues would start wagging the minute this information came out and Sansa didn’t want that at all.

“Aw… You’re missing them!” Josh placed a palm over his heart and Sansa instantly regretted lying to him. “You know what? Let’s go and watch a movie after work. It’ll be fun.” Then his eyes widened as though a brilliant idea had struck him. “Wait! Forget the movie. I know what you’ll love. Let’s go see the Sept of Baelor! You are a nerd, and I’m pretty sure you’ll love it.”

Hmmm, thought Sansa. That sounded lovely. She was an architect after all. And after she’d moved to King’s Landing, she’d never once gone out to see the architectural wonder! I mean, who does that? So Sansa took Joshua’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Sounds like a brilliant idea! I think I’ll be done by six. So we can leave after that.” Sansa looked over at Margery who was now staring at Sansa with her mouth hanging open. Sansa squinted to get a better look at her friend. Was she staring at her or at something beyond her? Sansa turned towards Joshua. “Maybe we should ask Marg to ..”

“Miss Stark…”

A voice thundered from behind her and Sansa almost toppled as her chair swivelled ungracefully in the direction of that voice. Sansa gripped the armrests with both her palms as she looked into smouldering dark eyes, definitely forged from fire.

The ‘Dragon by the day’ stood with his arms crossed, staring down at her like he was ready to open his mouth and incinerate her with the flames that would come out of his mouth at any moment. Of course in his black suit and dark grey shirt, he looked more like Hades – the god of death. Sansa was aware that every eye in his godforsaken office was now focussed on her. Maybe she’d imagined it but she was almost sure she saw Old Martha, the receptionist take the sign of the cross and send out a small prayer for her, looking to the heavens.

“Have you finished the drawings that were assigned to you?” Jon’s calm and composed voice was such a contrast to the livid expression on his face that Sansa was taken aback by his question.

She stood up realising every other person in the office was standing up either at attention, or out of curiosity, or fear, or in anticipation of something to come. She fumbled through her papers on the desk behind her as she searched for the cursed drawings. All of a sudden, she was aware of her beige pencil skirt clad bent backside now facing Jon. She shot up straight and straightened the absent crease in her maroon silk blouse. _This was soooooo awkward_. When she turned back to face him, Jon’s eyes were now trained on Joshua who looked like he was visibly cringing at some kind of silent censure that Jon was giving him.

“Ehem… I’ve finished some.” Sansa cleared her throat as she spoke to Jon, to get his attention back to her and she was successful. But she lost her confidence instantly because of the sheer intensity in his dark grey eyes. “But these others…”

“I see…” Jon cut her before she could finish. “So you haven’t finished them.” He simply stated, and Sansa felt like throwing all the papers in her hands, at him. _Did I not just say I’ve finished ‘some’, you pighead?_ She wanted to yell at him. In her head, she did. In reality, she simply gawked.

Jon took a step towards her. “Please follow me to the conference room, Ms Stark. And bring your files.” Jon told her calmly and started to turn around.

“Sir I think I should also accompany her because…” started Joshua but stopped speaking when Jon turned around to give him ‘the look’. Now, Sansa sent out a prayer to the heavens for Joshua.

“Last time I checked, your name was Joshua Bolton, not Sansa Stark.” Jon simply stated, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets, his stern expression doing the talking more than his words. “Thank you Joshua, but if I need your opinion, I’ll ask for it.  Now, Ms. Stark, if you will…”

 _What was wrong with Jon?_ _How dare he?_ If Jon thought his tone and behaviour was going to intimidate her, he had another thing coming. Sansa hated his tone and cast an apologetic glance at Josh who didn’t meet her eye. Jon had already stormed off towards the conference room at breakneck speed, people jumping aside to give him way. As Sansa slowly followed his footsteps, she felt the whole office’s eyes on her and saw a common emotion for her in each and everyone’s eyes – pity. Sansa gulped slightly as she turned the doorknob and entered the conference room. _Was he going to fire her? He wouldn’t,_ said the saner voice of her brain. Sansa took a deep breath. She was not going to _BEND_ if she was not wrong. Of that – she was sure!

Jon was half sitting on the conference table with his arms crossed in front of his chest with a far-away look on his face. As soon as Sansa shut the door behind her, the click of the door shutting seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, and he brought his eyes back on her, placing his palms on the edge of the long oval table at the centre of the room. Unlike Jon’s office which was see-through, the conference room had opaque walls, and Sansa felt like a caged bird as Jon pushed himself up and walked towards her – each step a purposeful prowl. Sansa licked her dry lips, and Jon stopped walking. “Mr Snow…” she began, but Jon cut her short.

“Sansa, we’re alone now” His voice was barely a whisper and in spite of the fact that Sansa was livid with Jon’s ghoulish behaviour she couldn’t but help notice how seductive his choice of words was. “You can call me Jon, now,” he said, and Sansa saw red.

“NO!” she said slamming her files on the table. “I am at work and you are my boss. I shall address you as Sir or Mr. Snow.” Sansa now crossed her arms defensively as she spoke to him. “I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, Sir. The deadline for these drawings is two weeks away and I’ve already finished some. I don’t understand what the problem is?”

A muscle moved in Jon’s jaw. Sansa knew he was gritting his teeth to keep his temper in check. “This is not about your drawings.” He said looking away first and then back at her. “This is about your date with Joshua Bolton.”

“What? My date!?” Sansa spat out unable to control herself. What the bloody hell was Jon talking about? She was not going out on a date with Josh. But then again, who the devil did Jon think he was to question her ‘even if’ she was going on a real date with Josh.

“Yes!” he almost shouted. “You can’t date him, Sansa.” Jon moved a step towards her knocking her breath out or else Sansa would’ve most definitely thrown the paperweight at him at the sheer audacity of his command. “Sansa, Josh is ….” He began but Sansa held her palm to his face. If she’d promised herself anything when she left Winterfell, it was the fact that she was not going to **BOW** down to the wishes of anyone, as long as she knew in her heart that she was doing the right thing. And Jon was definitely not an exception.  

“NO! I don’t want to hear this.” Anger akin to what she felt every time her brothers disapproved of the men she wanted to date surged through her body, the rage literally shaking her. “First of all, you’re one to tell me this? Seriously? You have different girls in your apartment for breakfast, lunch and dinner; leave during separate weeks or months. That is how often your girlfriends change. I mean I don’t know if I can even call them your girlfriends but I will, for the sake of decency.”

She took a step towards him “Do you know how many of them thought I was your housekeeper or your cleaning lady when I’d come to your apartment to stock food for you? Do you know how many of them literally begged me for your phone number because apparently, that’s the one thing you don’t give them.” Sansa raised her hands up in defeat. “I am digressing but you get the point right?”

In the next instant Jon reached out for her elbow and pulled her to him and Sansa gasped audibly. _Push him away, push him away,_ her mind decreed but her treacherous hands didn’t move. They remained glued to his hard, muscular torso. It was like her hands yelled back at her brain. _You wish!_

Sansa could feel his hot fiery breath on her face. My, he was a dragon. “If you would’ve let me finish, I would’ve told you that you can’t date Joshua because he’s Ramsay Bolton’s cousin.”

Suddenly Sansa felt foolish. Of course, she knew who Ramsay Bolton was. He was Robb’s sworn enemy. She had no idea what had gone wrong between them but she knew that Robb had almost killed the boy and her parents had to go down to the university to sort out the matter. She looked up at Jon, and he saw the recognition in her eyes. “Robb would kill Josh first and then me for allowing his little sister to date a Bolton.”

“Then why have you hired him? And why did you assign me to him?” Sansa tried to disentangle herself from him but his grip on her didn’t slacken. “He’s a nice guy and you know it.” She challenged Jon. If it was possible, his grip on her tightened another notch.

“Yes I know he’s a nice chap and he’s good at his work,” Jon said through clenched teeth. “I wanted to be unbiased when he applied for a job here. But you dating him, is another issue altogether. You know your brother better than me.”

“Oh for god sake Jon, I’m not dating the guy,” Sansa exclaimed and Jon instantly released her as though he suddenly realised how close they were standing and how inappropriate it looked. Sansa exhaled audibly. Jon, Theon – always so loyal to Robb. Of course, she knew he was worried that if she dated Joshua, Robb would throw a fit and then he would come down to King’s landing, convince her father about her safety and security being in danger or some shit like that and since there was no love lost between Roose Bolton and Ned Stark, her father would agree. They’d ask her to come back to Winterfell. No, thank you. She’d find someone else to date. She didn’t even like Josh in that sense.

She looked at Jon, who was looking at her in confusion. “He suggested that we go see the Sept of Baelor. I haven’t seen anything in King’s Landing after I’ve come here. I was going to ask Margery too. We were just going to hang out. He has no interest in me whatsoever.”

Jon took in the information and after some thought, he simply scoffed. “Sansa, you’re crazy to think he has no interest in you.” His eyes now became more serious.  “No unattached, full-blooded male can possibly have ‘no interest’ in you.”

Tension as dense as a fog settled around the room and Sansa could scarcely breathe. Though he’d released her, he was still standing close enough for her to feel the heat that radiated from his body.

_Full-blooded male._

The words resounded in her head and here was the finest specimen standing right in front of her eyes. Sansa tried to find her voice, lost somewhere in her dry throat. “Look, Jon, I won’t date him okay? I don’t have those kinds of feelings for him. But Robb…” _and you_ , she added in her head “…had better get used to the idea that I’m going to date someone, soon. I don’t need a boyfriend but if I like someone, I am going to date him, period.” There she’d said it. If Jon thought his nearness was **break** ing her, he was wrong. Sansa gathered her files, ready to walk out of the door.

Jon looked like he was trying to process all the information she’d fed him with. She asked him in a steady voice “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss with me?”

“Yes,” Jon said looking up at her. “Sorry that I behaved like an imbecile back there. It’s just that I know how protective Robb is about you and I didn’t want you to be dragged back to Winterfell when you’re doing so well here.” He took a hesitant step towards her as though struggling for the right words. “You are very good at your job Sansa and a valuable addition to Black Castle, you should know that.”

Right, when she thought she could hate him a little, he had to go and do that. Apologise to her, despite his reputation of never doing that, and validate her talent! Way to go, Jon Snow. Thank you for pushing me further down the black hole. “Thank you.” She smiled at him radiantly and he smiled back, looking so gorgeously handsome that ‘those feelings’ attacked her with a vengeance. Just as she was about to turn around and leave, he called out to her once again and she arrested her exit.

“Sansa, I feel bad that I’ve not offered to take you out to see the city.” Jon ran his fingers through his curly locks secured in his man bun and Sansa’s fingers itched to do the same. “After you’ve seen the Sept of Baelor, would you like to meet me somewhere for dinner? I mean you’ve fed me so much. The least I can do is to treat you in return.”

Sansa looked at her watch. It was Tuesday. She looked back at Jon. “I thought Tuesday night was your boys’ night out?” She enquired. She knew Jon was very serious about meeting his friends every Tuesday night. It was a tradition he never broke.

“Yes…” he smiled at her, almost mischievously. “You, my dear, are invited to the boys’ night out.”

Sansa gaped at him, wondering if she’d heard him right. “You want me to come with you to your night out with your friends? Won’t that be awkward? Besides, I don’t want your friends to hate me. I don’t think it’s a good idea, Jon.”

Jon moved towards her determinately. “Come on, Sansa. Tuesdays are the only nights I leave early from work. I travel during the weekends mostly and you know that. When else am I going to find time to take you out then? And don’t worry about my friends. They’re dying to meet you anyway.”

Sansa frowned suspiciously. _His friends - dying to meet her?_ “And why’s that?” she asked him. Was she imagining this or did Jon look like he was colouring up?

But he waved his hand dismissively. “I rave about your food and they’re just curious. And they know Robb. Listen, it’ll be fine. You’ll make more friends in the city this way. I’ll text you the location or I could pick you up from the Sept.”

“Text me the location” Sansa replied instantaneously, terribly worried about how Josh and Margery would react if they saw Jon come to pick her up. “I’m just dressed in work clothes. So I hope that is alright.” Sansa was already beginning to feel conscious about meeting Jon’s friends.

“You look lo…” Jon started and then stopped as their eyes met. “.. Fine. You look fine, don’t worry. Besides, we’ll all be in our work clothes. I’ll see you at about eight?”

Sansa smiled and nodded in affirmative, internally wondering why she was agreeing to this fiasco. Barging in on a boys’ night out was against the rules. Isn’t that exactly why it was called a boys’ night out? Sansa walked out of the conference room and almost everyone around her breathed a collective sigh of relief, probably happy that she’d come out of the dragon’s lair _unbowed, unbent, unbroken_ **.** Josh and Margery rushed to her asking her what happened inside and were pretty shocked when Sansa told them a fabricated story about Jon being impressed with her work when she showed it to him. Well, she was not lying exactly. He had told her that he liked her work, thought Sansa with a sappy grin but righted her face when Margery looked at her questioningly.

“Huh!” said Margery with usual intelligent eyes. “That’s got to be the first time someone’s come out of there with a smile on their face. You sure he didn’t kiss you with that deliciously full mouth of his?”

Sansa spat out the water she was sipping on. “What? Are you crazy Marge? Why would he do that?” Sansa laughed a little too artificially.

Margery pouted screwing her pretty face to one side and looked at her well-manicured nails before giving Sansa a piercing look. “I don’t know. He was looking at you like he either wanted to kill you or eat you or both. I couldn’t really tell.”

“Keep your voice down!” Sansa’s whisper was a screech and Margery let out a laugh. “You’re coming to the Sept with me and Josh, aren’t you?” Sansa asked her, rather desperate to change the topic.

“Of course” Margery looked bored. “Why would I miss going to the Sept that I have already seen like a zillion times?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m doing this for you girl, but that means you have to come with me to that party next week.” She lowered her voice. “You’re the oldest virgin in the history of history. You need to find a man before things down there get rusty.”

She evaded the smack that Sansa aimed at her and slid back into her workspace. Sansa glanced at her watch. Two more hours to six and four more hours to eight. Jon had just invited her to dinner with friends. It was not like she was going out on a date with him. She shook her head trying to focus on her work. She had cooked for Jon so many times. He was just trying to return the favour. _You need to get your mind out of the dustbin_ ; she scolded herself. It’s just going to be her, Jon and his friends.

How hard could it be?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Melissa, for making sure I'm using the right words, LOL!
> 
> Thanks Becky - you really see all!! LOL
> 
> Neha - You really really are very good!! Oh my god!! I can't believe I didn't see those. Muuuuah!


	4. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Yes, the title is inspired from The Philosopher's stone... The Words that make Gryffindor win the house cup and well I thought it would suit the situation well. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Any jokes, statements made is not meant to inflict judgement upon any community/person/group/cult. It's a light-hearted romantic comedy, just to make you smile and your day better. Hope you read it in that spirit!
> 
> And Please let me know, if you liked it!!

 

“You blithering idiot… you bloody imbecile… what have you done?” Jon cursed himself, out loud in the sanctity of his car.

 

It was like he’d agreed to an ice-bucket challenge – with ‘dung’ substituting the ice. And if that was not bad enough already he had decided to jump into a pool of dung instead of dumping one bucket over his head. Now he was so deep inside the pool, which was like a quicksand mind you that he couldn’t seem to get out. What in seven hells, had prompted him to invite Sansa to dine with the three nincompoops who’d come up with the term ‘wife-zone’ for crying out loud? He knew the answer to that question, very _very_ well, for the traces of the dark hole that the violent emotion of jealousy had burnt in his insides, was still very much there.

Jon hit the steering wheel hard, but still didn’t get out of the car, holed up in the parking lot of the hotel where Jon had with his very own hands scripted the madness that was about to take stage. Why had he decided to place Sansa in his direct line of vision, when he’d given her a cubicle? At the time, he’d told himself that it was because he was looking out for Robb’s little sister. But his depraved thoughts about her, told him otherwise.

Curse the Gods, but Sansa had looked gorgeous today. Those fiery red locks that kept escaping from her messy bun, had driven him to distraction. He’d found himself glancing in her direction every single minute and hence it was no surprise to him that he’d accomplished very little while at work today. He’d rued the day he’d decided to make a see-through cabin for himself. For wasn’t that the reason for his irrational behaviour today?

The second he’d spotted Joshua Bolton reach out for Sansa’s hand, something ugly had erupted from within him. It was an alien, foreign feeling to him – like there was a dark side to him that he’d never known existed before today. His legs had carried him on their own accord to where Sansa was so freely giving radiant smiles to the man sitting next to her and Jon had seen red. But when Joshua had stared at Sansa’s lush bottom…

Even now, raw rage coursed through him as he thought about that moment. It had taken every single ounce of his willpower to not grab the man by his collar and launch him against the opposite wall. Jon laughed out, confused by his own emotions.

“Calm down, Snow” He told himself. He was not possessive by nature. He never knew he could have such primal instincts. Joshua Bolton was not a bad guy, even though he was Ramsay’s cousin. Jon had worked with him for more than a year. But the moment Jon had overheard them talking about going out together, he’d jumped to the conclusion that Sansa was going out on a date with him and then, this new other side of him that he’d just discovered existed, had completely taken over.

The fact that she had been the cause for the war between Robb and Ramsay was a fact Sansa did not know. When Sansa had come to their university, to visit Robb, Ramsay had taken an instant lecherous interest in her and made no qualms about admitting it to Robb. It was no secret to anyone in Winterfell about how protective the Stark men were about their Stark women. But Ramsay had been, probably still was – a bloody psychopath. Robb pounding him to a pulp with his bare hands was an inevitable outcome but what had shocked the entire university was that the peace loving Jon Snow had flown into a wild rage, almost finishing Ramsay completely, when he’d threated Robb even in his bloodied state that Sansa was going to pay for her brother’s mistake. Perhaps, Jon had shocked himself more than anyone else – because he was almost certain that he would’ve killed Ramsay that day.

He was just being protective about Sansa, he told himself, just like Robb would’ve been. Any Bolton, however good or bad - was trouble and he was just trying to make Sansa understand that when he’d called her into the conference room. Besides, if Robb ever knew that Jon had allowed Sansa near any Kin of Ramsay’s, Sansa would’ve been plucked off to Winterfell that very instant and Jon was not sure he liked the idea of her going away. So Jon had to be the one to tell her, in no clear terms, that the Bolton was off limits.

Then Sansa had said this.

_“I don’t need a boyfriend but if I like someone, I am going to date him, period.”_

Just like she’d said this a few days ago,

_“Maybe next time a man has me pinned to my door, we could call it even.”_

And the picture that a combination of these two sentences created had brought back the raging monster that Jon had mistakenly thought was under his control. He’d wanted to avoid any scenario where Sansa would be left alone with no plans for dinner, with Joshua Bolton and Margery Tyrell for fuck’s sake who seemed to have made it her life’s mission that ‘there shall be no single girl’ in this universe. For the first time in his life he suddenly found himself in a situation where he had to choose between the devil and the deep sea. So, he’d found, a new solution.

He took the devil and himself to drown in the deep sea.

“Nitwit, bird-brained, nincompoop…” he cursed himself all over again. How in heaven’s name was he going to survive tonight? His phone beeped and he saw Sam’s message.

_Jon, I think you texted us the wrong location._

Dread crept through him. Jon swallowed; then got out of his car, before typing out a reply.

I’ll meet you at the foyer.

He dashed out of the parking lot and headed towards the entrance. From a distance he could see Sam, Edd and Grenn all arguing about something and staring at the hotel like it was a bloody jail. Then Edd spotted him and waved out to him, almost smiling in relief. Jon silently braced himself for what was to come.

“Mate,” Edd slapped his back. “Thank god you got here. I was just telling Sam that this is the wrong location. Come on; let’s get out of here now.”

“Er.. Eddy … this is the right location.” Jon said in a voice which could’ve almost been passed off as a whisper. “Whitehall – see that’s the name of the restaurant.”

Edd stared at Jon like he had lost his mind. He looked at the name of the fine-dine which was engraved in silver and then back at Jon, then at Sam and Grenn who were both looking at the restaurant and then back at Jon.

“This. Is. Where. You. Wanted. Us. To…… hang out?” Sam said pausing for effect after every word. “I am not one to usually swear and I pretend at least, to be the gentleman amongst you lot, but WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, JON?” Sam placed his hands on his hips like a mother hen. “Does this even remotely resemble a bar, to you?”

Grenn looked like he didn’t need any alcohol to be intoxicated. He appeared pretty zonked already. “I don’t understand.” He placed his hand almost gently on Jon’s shoulder. “Has something happened to you? Are you… coming out of the closet or something because if that’s the case, I can understand? I mean you’ve boned so many women and now you’re just bored of them…”

“NO! Take your fucking hands off me!” Jon backed away from Grenn, jerking his palm off his shoulder. “I can’t believe you can’t believe you go by stereotypes! Insensitive fool!” Jon grated and then looked at his friends in frustration. “What is wrong with us having dinner at a decent restaurant for a change, you prats?”

“A decent restaurant?” Edd echoed Jon’s words like he couldn’t believe his ears. Then he gestured wildly at the restaurant with his index finger, “This isn’t a restaurant Jon, this is fucking La La Land! Look at the people in there. Do you see any other group of four buggers in there, who’re trying to get drunk or laid?”

Jon gulped. This was not going too well. Not at all! If his friends were reacting to the choice of his restaurant in this fashion, what were they going to do when the fifth invitee to this party turned up?

“Hey, cut him some slack!” Sam came to stand next to him, recovering from the initial shock. “It was his turn to choose and to be fair to him, he’s always chosen the best places. And rules are rules. It was his turn. So we go where he wants us to go. Let’s give him the benefit of doubt and check out this… um… fancy restaurant, ok?”

Jon’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen more minutes before Sansa made her grand entrance. He had to herd this lot inside soon. So he walked into the restaurant, closely followed by a trying-very-hard-to-be-cheerful Sam and a silently grunting Edd and an openly grumbling Grenn. Jon smiled at the girl at the reservations desk. “Hi, I am Jon Snow. I have a reservation.”

The girl beamed back at him, a reaction that was very familiar to him. In the background he heard Grenn exclaim, ‘He’s made a bloody reservation… what he needs is our support man. I’m telling you.’

“Jon Snow, table for five.” She exclaimed politely and signalled to a waiter who came to them immediately. “Follow me, Sir.” He said and Jon followed him. He immediately felt Sam’s arm go around him.

“Umm… Jon” He looked at him with a confused smile. “Are you sure we have the right table? Because I thought I heard the lady say – a table for five.”

Jon coughed loudly as they sat down, around the round table covered with pristine white linen and shining silverware and crystal glasses. Edd was foolishly counting the number of people and then the number of chairs. Grenn was squirming in his chair, almost hiding his face as though he’d die of shame if someone were to recognise him here. Jon’s heart pounded against his ribcage as he glanced at his watch nervously. Five more minutes before touch down; he had to tell them now.

“Why are there five chairs in this table?” asked Edd, finally having finished the counting. He then playfully nudged Sam, “Two chairs for you, eh Samville Bigbottom!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Ha Ha ha… Very funny! But I’m glad I got to be Neville Longbottom, in our Hogwarts school group. I am a lot like him, in reality too, just like Jon is very much like Harry, if you could for a moment forget about the string of women that he is constantly surrounded by.”

Grenn laughed out loud. “Yes of course, Hairy Harry with his curly dishevelled locks. So I was Seamus Finnigan and Edd was Dean Thomas. I wonder why? Why wasn’t either one of us Ron?”

“Because…” said Sam, looking shocked when Jon ordered some wine instead of his usual beer or scotch but then quickly got back to the topic of discussion. “Jon had his Ron and the Weaselys tucked back in Winterfell. Robb has always been Jon’s best friend, plus he’s a redhead and there’s of course the whole Robb Ron similar sounding name thingy. So he naturally got to be Ron to Jon’s Harry.”

“Wait is this fifth chair for Robb?” Sam asked Jon with sudden interest. “Oh wow, it’s been so long that I’ve met either Robb or Theon. I think I last saw him at your twenty first birthday bash. You know we jokingly call Robb – the King in the north, don’t you?”

Jon didn’t answer. He wished Robb was the fifth member arriving at the table. “No.. ehem … Itsnotrobbitssansa…” Jon finished in one breath and Sam and Edd frowned and at him.

“What’s not a hobbit dancer?” Sam’s puzzled expression furthered Jon’s exasperation. “Wait… What _is_ a hobbit dancer in the first place?”

Jon wanted to tear his hair out of his skull now. “I meant… it’s NOT ROBB it’s…”

“Well blow me down…” exclaimed Grenn now looking dreamily at the entrance of the restaurant. “But if this fiery haired angel is waving at me, I’m breaking faith tonight with the brotherhood and becoming her slave forever.”

“YOU will do NO SUCH THING” thundered Jon as he swiftly got up and waved back at Sansa who was just a few paces away. “Gentlemen, this is Sansa Stark, and she’s joining us for dinner.”

                                                                                      -*-

As Sansa came to stand beside Jon, he gave her a brief hug, definitely a mistake because he could now smell her sweet scent and that did various ridiculously inappropriate things to his body, all at once. Sansa looked a bit shy and Jon suddenly realised that it was probably because all the three of his friends were staring at Sansa with identical expressions of shock mixed with some horror and awe - their mouths hanging wide open.

“Ehem…” Jon cleared his throat to draw their attention to him but they were gawking at Sansa like she was a bloody Veela. “Boys, this is Sansa Stark. Robb’s sister.” He said the last two words a little forcefully.

Sam was the first to recover. He stood up gracefully and took Sansa’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Sansa. I think I last saw you at Jon’s 21st birthday bash at Winterfell. You had come with Robb. You and your sister Arya. You may not remember me though.”

Sansa smiled brightly, colouring a little and Jon couldn’t help but admire how becoming it made her look. “You’re Sam and I do remember you. I think I had the most delightful conversation with you about Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes and how they’re both geniuses and yet have completely different methods. You’re hard to forget, Sam.”

Sam blushed - a deep purple and then threw Edd and Grenn a dirty glare silently reminding them to stand, as the lady was still standing. Both of them scrambled to their feet, awkwardly, as they greeted Sansa. All of them sat down after Sansa took her place between Jon and Sam.

Jon tried to lighten the thick tension that seemed to surround them. “So, how was your trip to the sept of Baelor?”

“Oh! It was fabulous…” Sansa exclaimed and Jon was caught off guard by the brilliant smile she cast in his direction. “The architecture was so intricate. The stained glass…”

Sansa’s voice was like a melody and Jon zoned out. All he could see was her red hair, now spilling free across her shoulders, her full mouth, her deep blue eyes and the excitement and happiness that shone in them. He smiled when she smiled. He nodded when she nodded. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through her hair and bring her mouth…

_Robb’s little sister… Robb’s little sister… She’s Robb’s little sister, you twisted cad!_

He forced his ears to pay attention to what she was saying. “And so, I had a fun evening.” Sansa finished and Jon looked around to find Sam staring at him with an amused expression. Jon immediately straightened himself, hoping his ears were not as red as he felt they were.

“Err…” said Sansa, looking a little guilty. “I am so very sorry about disrupting your boys’ night out. I told Jon this was not a good idea and I am feeling very guilty about intruding like this.”

“No, we are glad to have you with us, Sansa.” said Edd immediately and Grenn said enthusiastically. Then Grenn patted Jon’s shoulder, a little too harder than was necessary. “In fact, we insisted, didn’t we Jon?”

Jon knew he was going to die a horrible death the minute Sansa said goodbye. But nonetheless, he was grateful to have such loyal friends. They might murder him in cold blood for this cock-up, but would never let him down in front of Sansa. Sam, Edd, Grenn and Jon had studied in the same school for a while before Jon had moved to Winterfell. They’d always remained in touch. And when Jon moved back to King’s Landing, to start his firm, it was as though he’d never been parted from them.

“I told you so, Sansa” said Jon and Edd flashed him a smile through gritted teeth. Thankfully, Sansa didn’t notice the contempt in the smile.

Sansa bit her lower lip, as though she was amused about something and Jon felt a direct bolt of desire shoot to his loins. He almost groaned.

“Ummm… I have to say I am a little surprised,” Her blue eyes took in the restaurant. “I expected something less… fancy?” Then she flushed as though suddenly aware of what she’d said. “Sorry, I am not being judgemental.”

Edd, Grenn and Sam were staring at her, their smiles artificially frozen on their faces. Jon could tell – they wanted to lunge at him from across the table. Jon opened his mouth to say something but Sam beat him to it.

“We … ummm like to experiment” said Sam sounding extremely unsure… Beside him, he thought he heard Grenn mutter under his breath, ‘I think my todger just fell off’. Now, Sam’s voice sounded like he was constipated “Ya know… try out something different, once in a while.”

“That’s nice to know” Sansa nodded completely buying Sam’s cover up. Then she rolled her eyes. “Well I’ve grown up with boys and my brother’s boys’ nights out usually always ends in a drunken brawl of some sort.” She picked up a crystal glass from the table examining it carefully. “So they usually stick to places which serve beer in iron goblets and have wooden benches which are nailed to the ground for chairs.”

For a long second everyone stared at Sansa. Then collectively, they burst out laughing and Sansa cheerfully joined them. Jon breathed a sigh of relief. The ice seemed to have broken in that moment and his friends seemed at ease around her now.

“I-I have to agree with y-you, Sansa” Sam said, wiping away the tear tracks his laughter had caused. “Yo-Your brothers are something else, altogether.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Rod, Os and Karl are worse than Robb. All they need is a sneeze to rake up trouble. However, my parents felt that Robb, while under the influence of Jon, sobered down quite a bit.”

Grenn spat the wine back into the glass and then flushed to his roots muttering a thousand apologies. “Sorry, but did your parents really think that about Jon – I mean this one, right over here?”

Sansa laughed out loud and though Jon had a sarcastic smile on his face when he looked at Grenn, his eyes cried – Meet me after she’s gone, you arsehole!

“Well, Jon was always famous with the women I guess…” Sansa coloured a little, as she avoided looking at Jon her eyes still focussed on Grenn. “But he was always more responsible when it came to everything else. He finished his education with flying colours. I always remember hearing that Jon got Robb out of a scrape or stopped one from happening altogether. Also, that he got drunk but one would never find him sitting on the roof, with a broken steering wheel in his hand, saying ‘Don’t disturb me, I am trying to fly a spaceship’,”

“W-What?!” Edd almost dropped his wine goblet as he shook with laughter. “Did Robb really say that?”

Sansa shook her head. “No, that was Rodrick.” She licked her lips and suddenly Jon forgot his mirth. “Of course, I wonder if he was high with substances other than alcohol for him to have climbed the roof when he actually is very scared of heights.”

Edd who was obviously very interested in this story leaned forward with interest. “How did you guys get him down?”

Sansa pursed her lips trying to refrain from laughing. “We didn’t. My sister Arya insisted that the best way to punish him for his stupidity, because it was a stupid and dangerous thing to do, was to let him fall asleep driving his spaceship.” She giggled a little and that kindled something in Jon. Also, he knew exactly how this story ended.

“Arya kept guard throughout the night,” continued Sansa, telling her tale to three enraptured listeners. “Climbing up on the roof beside Rod, as she said, she didn’t want him to die before giving her the greatest moment of her life. Then, as the rays of the morning sun started getting too hot for Rod, he woke up looking into the smiling face of Arya Stark. She shut his eyes with her palms and whispered to him, taking him to the very edge of the roof, ‘Surprise Rod! Look where your spaceship has landed. We’re in Mars’ and she removed her palms and let his eyes focus.”

“He screamed his lungs out like a bloody ninny,” Jon completed for Sansa, both of them exchanging a knowing glance. “And you have to see the size of his body to know why this was so funny.” A vivid picture of a 6’4”, bulky, screaming Rodrick, holding on to the roof like his life depended on it, while an impish Arya tried to tickle him came to his mind and Jon couldn’t hold back his laughter. “He refused to come down from the roof. Sansa’s uncle finally had to ask the fire engine to come and get him down. And he was teased about it, correction – he will be teased about it for the rest of his life. To make it worse, they actually have a video of him screaming like a frightened lady which they threaten to upload on you tube if he refuses to do their bidding.”

Grenn had now forgotten his earlier misapprehensions and was now freely a part of the conversation. “Wow!” he said looking at Jon. “Jon definitely looks like a saint in comparison to your brothers. So, you two know each other for a long time now?”

Sansa coloured visibly. It’s not Grenn’s question but the way he asked them – something in his tone that almost implied like they were a couple – that brought back some of the lost tension to the table. “Well, yes,” Sansa answered, cautiously “I knew Jon well and yet didn’t know him well. Jon hung out with the boys a lot and even Arya.”

“That’s not true” Jon said, turning around to look at her, surprised at her words. “I used to drop you to those study groups of yours, remember?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Yes, only because Robb didn’t want to appear like he was trying to keep tabs on me or who I was hanging out with from the opposite sex. Don’t tell me, he never asked you about the boys in my study group?”

Now Jon turned a deep red. Every word Sansa said was true. Robb did ask him about the boys in her group and if anyone was trying to hit on her. He’d lied for Sansa a couple of times, because every boy had been interested in her, he remembered with vehemence.

“Also they thought you were…” Started Sansa but then stopped in mid-sentence and Jon frowned at her. “Shall we order something to eat, I am hungry.”

Whatever Sansa had been about to say was lost in the scuffle that followed to order food and Jon forgot to ask Sansa what it was all about. After they placed their order, Sansa’s phone rang.

“Blimey!” She looked at the phone, “Why would Daddy call me at this hour? I have to take this call.” As she was about to get up from the chair Jon suddenly realised what Sansa’s absence would leave room for – _his death_. And that thought was confirmed by the evil grins on the faces of his friends who looked very much like Jon was a lamb up for slaughter. His survival instincts kicking in, he stood up and reached for her hand and prevented her escape, in order to save his hide. “Sansa, if you go outside, i-it could rain.”

Sansa turned around and looked at him like he’d taken leave of all his senses. “I am not going outside, Jon, I am going to the restroom. I’ll be back.” She slowly unlaced her hand from his.

“B-But… It could be dangerous… slippery … suffocating…with no ventilation” Jon said to her retreating back, trying everything he could remember but it didn’t work.

“Cluck-cluck-cluck-Cluck” Jon heard Sam’s clucking from behind him and he gulped. “Would you look at poor Jonny boy? His only life-line just walked away from him.”

Jon braced himself for the music as he turned around.

With just one look at their collective faces, Jon knew, without a doubt, that they were going to come at him with all guns blazing.

_“So Harry Potter…” said Edd with a wicked smile plastered all over his face. “It seems you’ve found your Ginny Weasely.”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Do think there are a lot of parallels between harry and Ginny and the Weaseley connection and Jon and Sansa and the stark-connection. If anyone wants to share my enthusiasm, you can DM me on tumblr or leave an ask or leave a comment on the section below this chapter. I am everythingjonsa on Tumblr!!


	5. Not just any girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you lovely people. Yes, I know I am terribly late in my update but I am having some health issues which are causing quite a lot of havoc in my brain. I thought I couldn't finish this chapter ever. I kept staring at the screen of my laptop for several days wondering why I can't write even a single word? So, finally after quite a lot of struggle, this is what I could manage. Hope it's decent enough!!
> 
> As always, Thanks Melissa for dealing with all my bullshit and keeping faith in my writing and also not letting me lose mine. It was your encouragement and constant validation that made me pull through!!
> 
> Thanks Amy and Brad for the offer of help! It meant a lot. 
> 
> Thanks Becky, for putting every chapter editing on priority and as usual doing an excellent job with it. 
> 
> And finally, Neha, I am concerned about the fact that I am turning you into a Jonsa with my fic. Actually no, scratch that! I am not a least bit concerned. If anything, I am enjoying doing that thoroughly!! Thank you for all the things you said I should change. Cause I agreed with everyone of it.

 

For the first time in his life, Jon understood what people felt when they spoke about a dream in which one is walking around, in the nude, in a very public place. And even though he was fully clothed, the way his friends were staring at him at the moment– their gazes almost identically similar – he might as well have been _stark-_ naked _,_ pun intended.

Jon reached for his goblet of water and took a big gulp from it, extremely conscious of three pairs of eyes following his every move.

Sam was the first one to break out of this frozen identical scrutinizing expression that was now bordering on creepy. He shook his head as though he had made a terrible miscalculation. “I am sorry Jon. I have to admit that I was wrong about my earlier assumption.” He pinched his lips together. “You’ve not wife-zoned Sansa. What was I even thinking?”

_Huh?_ That was not the reaction he was expecting, but a wave of relief passed over him. Jon smiled at Sam, just as Edd and Grenn stared at Sam like he’d lost his head or something. “What is wrong with you…” began Edd, but Sam shushed him by raising his palm.

“We were wrong” Sam glared at Edd, “It takes a lot of courage for a man to admit when he was wrong.” A disappointed look came upon Sam’s face. “All this while, I prided myself on being a people’s person – an intellectual who could gauge other people’s emotions quite well and for the first time in my life, I’ve been proven wrong. It’s quite a sad moment for me.”

Well, this was going better than he’d expected. Jon felt rather proud of himself. In hindsight now, it was quite a good decision to bring Sansa along on this Boys’ night out. All those rubbish notions in their heads about him wife-zoning Sansa…he’d dismissed all of them with the way he’d handled himself around her, Jon scoffed, feeling mighty pleased with himself. He was Jon Snow for fuck’s sake, and though he may think there was never a woman like Sansa to have walked this earth, he was not going all fuzzy inside at her very thought. NO! Absolutely not! This warm feeling that was spreading around his chest now was heartburn and acidity because of all the stress this meeting had caused. He let out an overconfident chuckle as he saw Grenn almost reach for Sam’s neck. Sam was always the clever one, Jon decided. He understood Jon well, always knew better and he was…

“I am sorry, Jon,” Sam said, reaching for Jon’s hands apologetically and Jon felt a little uncomfortable that Sam was taking this to heart a bit too much. He was about to tell Sam that ‘there’s nothing to forgive’ but Sam’s grip on his hand tightened a notch. “You see, Jon, you’ve not put Sansa in the wife-zone like I had previously suggested. What was I even thinking? Because she is in the bloody MOTHER-OF-YOUR-BABIES-ZONE!!!”

All coherent thought left Jon as Sam’s words echoed around the table, and Edd looked visibly relieved and Grenn simply – _endlessly_ snickered.

“That’s a good one, Tarly. Full marks to you for it.” He looked at Jon, with a mixture of mirth and pity. “Oh Jonny boy, you blind besotted fool.”

“Shut it!” Jon’s whisper came out as a screech as he looked over his shoulder to check if Sansa was coming back. “Don’t fucking make a mountain out of a molehill. And Sam, your affinity for dramatics is just embarrassing. Look I know you guys are pissed, that I brought Sansa to our night out and I am sorry I broke the rules, but she is a good friend; that is all. I feel nothing for …”

“Oh thank god, you cleared that.” Grenn said almost good-naturedly. “Now I can make my move on her..”

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE…” The words were out of Jon’s mouth before he could stop himself and he felt like quite the jester in the courtroom as another roar of laughter broke around the table, and Edd had to hold on to the table to not fall off his chair. They were also earning a couple of stares from the people around them. Jon cleared his throat, in an attempt to control the situation. “Look, I have to look out for her. She’s Robb’s little sister. You guys are just misconstruing everything because I ruined our time together…”

“Ruined??” Edd said wiping his tears of laughter. “No Mate. This… is gold. You’ve provided us with entertainment like never before.” He looked up at the ceiling dreamily. “I am watching ‘The taming of the wild hunter’ – featuring Jon Snow, from a vantage point. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this for anything else in the world.”

“Would you gits just stop...”

“I mean, of course, I’m in all probability going to get slaughtered if Gilly ever comes to know that Jon got a girl to the Boys’ night out…” He turned towards Jon, his face going red with suppressed laughter “You know Gilly, right Jon? Gilly -  my _fiancée_ … whom I’ve never brought along with me because of a bro-code that exists between us.” Jon immediately grimaced, and Sam burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, Jon. She will totally forgive me when I tell her that you are going to beat us to the altar very soon and have cute cuddly babies with auburn hair or perhaps even a mop of raven curls and lovely blue eyes. Oh wait! Have you set a date, already?”

His friends broke into another round of laughter, and this time Jon didn’t bother telling them to stop. It was of no use. It would simply encourage them to tease him some more. Jon rolled his eyes. Let them have their fun, at his expense. He kind of deserved it anyway for springing a surprise on them. But then suddenly out of nowhere, his mind wholly unwantedly conjured an image of a radiant Sansa smiling at him with a cute little kid tugged snuggly against her hip and Jon ran his fingers through his hair, almost tempted to pull it out to erase the vision from his head as well as what it did to him. His heart was beating faster; his pulse was racing and his body tightened - stiff with tension. He looked at Sam, anger gnawing at his insides now. _This man_ was responsible for putting all sorts of uninvited irrational thoughts into his head.

“Will you idiots just stop it?” Jon’s question sounded more like a roar and the tension in his voice, perhaps, made all the three of his friends turn and look at him. Their laughter ebbed slowly looking at the fierce expression on his face as he stood up. Jon reigned in his temper but his voice was crisp when he spoke, “Look I know you guys are entitled to give me shit for breaking …whatever code I’ve broken, but please there’s really no truth to all this. I think you _prats_ have forgotten everything about me. I don’t do serious relationships. Besides, Sansa and I have known each other for a long time. You are just mistaking the camaraderie that we share for something else…”

“Hear hear…” said Grenn, patting Jon on the back, halting his words and his thoughts. “Jon I-don’t-give-a-fuck Snow is giving us detailed, lengthy explanations about why he doesn’t have any feelings for his best friend’s little sister,” He snickered, and Jon gnashed his teeth. “Since when do you care what we think about your escapades or non-escapades? The fact that you need to explain or deny should tell you more than our teasing, mate.”

Jon sighed as the truth about what Grenn just said hit him hard. Right, since when did he care what his pals thought about what he was doing or not doing with _a_ particular girl? _Perhaps because Sansa wasn’t just any girl_ , said a voice in his head – a voice he’d been desperately trying to drown out since Sansa had stepped foot into King’s Landing. NO, Jon shook his head hard, physically trying to stop his brain from investigating that line of thought. Sansa was an alluringly beautiful woman, and he was a red-blooded male. He was bound to be drawn to her. It was a mild attraction, just a natural reaction – nothing more. His friends were just being stupidly dramatic.

“Fine. Think whatever you want.” Jon plonked himself back in his seat. “I am just wasting my breath on you people anyway.”

Sam stopped laughing a little and cleared his throat. “Ehem.. well if you ever admit to yourself what you’re feeling for Sansa and you decide to give it a go…” Sam frowned a little noticing the confused look on Jon’s face. And Jon’s fists clenched at his sides. Did Sam just suggest that Jon was going to have a fling with Sansa…?

“I mean the whole ‘serious-relationship’ route that you usually never take,” Sam clarified and Jon relaxed a bit and then tension gripped him once again as the implication of Sam’s words sunk in. “I’d like you to know that I think she’s really wonderful.”

_Awwwww…._

_NOOOOOOOOO… you can’t go the awwww way, Jon Snow!_

Both these voices erupted inside his head at the same time, and Jon desperately hoped his friends couldn’t see how red in the face he had gone. Panic gripped at him harder than any other emotion ever had.

“Ehem.. yes, I .. er… have to agree with Tarly here,” Edd said and looked very uncomfortable.

Grenn just made a gurgling sound which very suspiciously sounded like ‘I agree too’ with lots of coarse coughing thrown in.

And just like that Jon realised what was happening here. His friends were registering their approval of Sansa like she was a girl he was dating. They’d never done that before. EVER. Sansa Stark had won over his friends in just an hour weaving around a spell with her own particular brand of magic. Perhaps it was her honest, innocent blue eyes or perhaps it was the sincerity in them. Maybe it was that dazzling smile of hers or maybe it was more to do with the warmth that radiated from it. Could it be that whoever came across her was affected by her charm like this? In all probability, the answer to this was yes and Jon wasn’t sure if he would like to know if this was true.

A soft hand touched his shoulder and Jon turned around automatically and looked directly into Sansa’s brilliant blue eyes like she’d been conjured right out of his thoughts. He managed to smile back at her as she slipped into her seat beside him. “So…” she said looking around the table. “What did I miss?”

“Actually, quite a lot,” said Sam spontaneously and Jon couldn’t stop the glare that his eyes shot at Sam. “B-But….” Sam stuttered a bit as he was trying to control his laughter. “Considering that a major chunk of it was related to you, perhaps you didn’t miss that much.”

There was a cartoon that Jon used to watch as a kid where the wolf’s jaw dropped open and fell out onto the table in front of him - in shock. Though it didn’t physically happen, Sam’s statement evoked the equivalent urge in Jon. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

Jon dared a sideward glance at Sansa and saw a slight crease mar her beautiful forehead. He was going to murder Sam in cold blood if he so much as opened his mouth…

“I mean… Jon was just telling us many more stories of the time he spent in your home in Winterfell,” Sam covered up quickly, a save he’d probably planned in the first place when he made such a bold statement to Sansa. There was no doubt that he was thoroughly enjoying keeping Jon on tenterhooks.

“Really?” Sansa turned towards him with an affable smile and placed her palm gently on his. A hot bolt of desire rocked his entire body and Jon gritted his teeth to stop his hand from threading into hers and pulling her onto his lap. “Which story were you narrating?” Her melodious voice reached his ears but Jon couldn’t trust himself to speak, let alone conjure a story from his memories, given the current state of his mind and body.

“Ah!” Sansa exclaimed, looking beyond Jon. “Our food is here. I am so terribly hungry.”

Saved by the bell! Jon sighed in relief as Sam nodded his approval to Sansa. “A woman who doesn’t have any qualms in admitting that she’s hungry; you’ve just scored huge brownie points in my books Sansa Stark!”

Of course, Sam didn’t miss cocking an eyebrow at Jon as he said the last sentence. But Jon didn’t care. He was feeling confused, hot, tensed, lascivious, guilty – all at the same time and he was more than ready for this ordeal to get over. Perhaps on his way back home with Sansa, he could unwind a bit and relax a little. _Strange though,_ mused Jon. That he should feel like he can relax in Sansa’s company when she’s the one who was responsible for all these mixed reactions in him. He really needed a change of subject.

“So your dad called?” he asked Sansa, trying to sound as normal as he could. “Is everything alright?”

Sansa was twirling the spaghetti with her fork. “I was worried too… Dad only calls when it’s absolutely necessary,” Then she shrugged her shoulders. “But it’s nothing, really. He wanted me to come home for the next weekend. I could make out that it was my mother who’d made him call me.” She laughed, shaking her head slightly. “I could hear her whispering in the background. When I asked him not to be mom’s messenger, he got all stuck up about the fact that I caught him red-handed and fumbled that there’s no scheme here to get me home. So, now I am sure there’s a scheme to get me home because Ned Stark can’t lie even if his life depended on it.” She suddenly looked thoughtful for a second. “Actually, I take that back. Ned Stark can’t lie unless one of our lives depended on it.”

She included Jon in the ‘our lives’ and Jon was extremely touched by it. Jon couldn’t help but smile. Catelyn always got Ned to do the dirty work for her and she thought her children didn’t know but they knew alright. So in college, when Ned would call Robb and tell him to eat all his meals on time, Robb would simply reply – ‘Tell mom to stop monitoring me. Please!’ If Ned insisted it was him who was concerned, Robb would simply wave his hand and ask his father, ‘She’s promised to make you those Kidney Pies with the peas and the onions, hasn’t she? You’re such a cheap bribe, Dad!’

Jon laughed out loud thinking about this memory and Sansa looked at him curiously. “What is so funny?” When he told her, she smiled too. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know why mum can’t figure out that we know.” She scrunched her face trying to remember something and Jon couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked and how full her mouth looked as she chewed on her lower lip….

He snatched his mind back from the dangerous direction of his thoughts and cleared his throat as Sansa spoke, “In fact, I’m almost sure I heard Dad tell Mum – ‘What can I do? She has inherited that Stark intuition’. I am pretty sure after that they would’ve gotten into an argument about whether that was a more Stark trait or a more Tully trait, completely forgetting about their whole scheme to get me to come home.” He eyes turned softer, perhaps at the thought of her parents, whom Jon was pretty sure she missed quite a lot. Her next statement, “You can’t help but love them.” just confirmed his suspicion.

“You should probably just go then,” Jon suggested mildly but she shook her head disagreeing.

“I know why they want me to come home.” said Sansa, digging into her lemon mousse “But I am not going to go unless I am absolutely sure about it.” She licked her lips and just like that all the wine Jon had consumed until now turned into liquid fire and started running through his veins, heating his blood and his entire body. Only the realisation that he was under the scrutiny of his friends made him look away from her and at them.

_Too Late_! The damage was done. Sam was chewing the corner of his mouth to control a smile that was aching to break out on his face. “You seem to have decided upon your choice of dessert.” He said, looking at Sansa and then back at him. “I didn’t know that Lemon mousse could have you salivating so much.”

In his mind, Jon had thrown all the knives and forks at Sam and he had died a bloody death. But externally, Jon just gave Sam a ‘You meet me outside, you bloody traitor’ kind of a gritted-teeth smile which fortunately Sansa mistook for a genuine one. She looked at him surprised. “You like Lemon mousse? I thought anything chocolate was your favourite?”

“Wow!” It was now Edd’s turn to butt in. “You know his desert preferences? That’s amazing.” He tried to sound casual but Jon knew only too well what his intention was.

Sansa suddenly looked a bit flustered. “I er.. well that is Jon, Robb and Theon  -  they would fight for my mother’s famous Dutch chocolate cake. And since Jon volunteered to lick the batter from the mixing bowl, I always assumed he loved chocolate.” She threw her head back and laughed innocently. “You remember how you’ve warned me on multiple occasions not to dip my fingers in the batter for you’d have to lick it off them too.”

A fork clattered somewhere and Edd dived below to retrieve it. But Jon knew with a sinking feeling that Edd had taken refuge under the table to mask his laughter. If his intuition was not enough, he could see Edd’s butt shaking with suppressed laughter. Grenn choked on his pie and rushed off to the bathroom excusing himself. Jon was pretty sure he heard a muted, “This is Christmas come early..” as his friend dashed away from behind him. Only Sam sat staring at Jon and Sansa pretending to laugh at Sansa’s joke which was now equivalent to a death sentence for him.

“But of course he said that,” Sam said looking kindly at Sansa, perhaps realising the innocence in her. “But since Jon is nothing but a Gentleman - only within the jurisdiction of Winterfell, I’m sure he’d never go forward with his threat.”

Sansa coloured immediately, probably realising how inappropriate her words sounded, especially to his friends. She looked at Jon apologetically as Edd resurfaced from under the table, his face looking as purple as an aubergine. A flush spread all over her face and neck and Jon was again thrown into the deepest pits of hell as his hand itched to cup her face. He looked at Sam, feeling like he had to somehow protect her; like he had to rescue her. “Well, if you have the good fortune of tasting Sansa’s cooking, you’ll want to lick every last crumb off your plate, your fingers, hers and mine too. The Stark women have magic in their hands.”

Sansa smiled at him, affectionately and his heart soared; flying high in the skies and the heavens above him. He felt like a Knight who had rescued a princess…

“Yes yes… And Ginny Weasely probably took after Molly Weasely too…” said Sam, with a wave of his hand. “And Harry loved them both…”

“What??” Sansa and Jon exclaimed at the same time. Sansa – not getting the context at all while Jon - getting it a little too well.

“Nothing…” Sam said hurriedly and then looked relieved as he saw someone approach from behind them. “Grenn’s here..”

The rest of the dinner went on smoothly, probably because it lasted only for fifteen minutes out of which twelve were spent in arguing about who would get the cheque. This surprised Jon tremendously since it was his turn to pay – fair and square – because it was his turn to pick a place and their so-called bro-code stated that the person who picked the place, paid for the drinks and dinner. So Obviously, this was for Sansa’s benefit, each one of his friends trying to prove their gentlemanliness, Jon rolled his eyes. He slowly gestured to the waiter and passed his credit card to him while the others argued and Sansa joined the fray suggesting that since she was meeting them all for the first time, they must consider it her treat – a suggestion which instantly rejected.

“Ehem…” Jon cleared his throat as he stood up pocketing his credit card and the bill, halting the heated argument midway. “If you guys are done here, could we all just leave? I got it, while you were busy wasting time in democratically deciding and casting your vote towards the person who was going to get it.” Jon shrugged as he attracted hard stares from his friends. “I’m often accused of being an autocrat. I guess it does have its perks sometimes.”

Jon pulled Sansa’s chair out as she got out and she almost shyly said thank you. For a reason unbeknownst to him, Jon offered Sansa his arm, and she linked hers through his after a slight hesitation. Thankfully Grenn didn’t trip and fall over as he looked at Jon like he had suddenly grown two horns. Just the feel of her arm linked through his drove away any regret that threatened to appear regarding his decision to do the same. Sansa detached herself from Jon as she said goodbyes to each one of his friends quite unnecessarily giving them affectionate and friendly hugs that they returned with gusto and Jon had to tell himself that the rigidness of his body had nothing to do with seeing Sansa in the arms of other men. It was laugh-worthy that Jon would even entertain such thoughts. He was just too tired, that’s all.

Finally, Sansa slid in beside him and it was just the two of them in his black Aston Martin. Suddenly, there was a silence that surrounded them as though both didn’t understand what to say to the other. Also, Jon realised, he’d never really had to make small talk with a woman before. By this point of the night, Jon always had some action going on and conversation was never really a significant part of it. As Jon drove on the silence stretched uncomfortably between them and Jon decided that he needed to break the ice.

“I had a lovely evening, Sansa,” Jon said, staring at the road ahead, deliberately not looking at her. “I hope my friends were not too much trouble.”

He heard Sansa let out a soft sigh. “Jon, they were wonderful. I was the idiot.”

It was a good thing that they were at a red light because the speed at which Jon swivelled his neck towards Sansa would not have done him any good at all if he were driving. “What are you talking about?”

Sansa covered her eyes with her palm. “I am such a fool. I say such horrible things without thinking at times. Oh Jon…” She turned towards him, her eyes flashing at him apologetically and Jon felt this intense urge to pull over and draw her into his lap, the second time in the same night. _Now where did that thought come from?_ Jon looked back at the road as the green light signalled that he could go. It was a blessing that he’d chosen a place so close to home.

“That whole thing about you licking the batter off my fingers… I didn’t mean.. but I realised only after I’d said it how it sounded.” Jon could see Sansa shaking her head in the periphery of his vision as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building. “I don’t know why I do this…”

Jon switched off the engine and got out of the car. Sansa got out before he could pull the door out for her. “Sansa you’re just overthinking this. They didn’t think anything about it.” _That was a lie_. But a necessary one. If only Sansa really knew that his friends had promoted her from his wife-zone to mother-of-his-babies-zone… but that’s something she’d never find out. Or so he hoped.

“I almost implied like there was something more between us and that was just stupid of me,” said Sansa and with those words ringing around them, the doors of the elevator shut them in together away from the eyes of the world. To make things even worse, her hand was now brushing against his, he could smell the sweet scent of her skin, hear his own heart banging against his ribcage and he was acutely aware of the fact that she was just a hair’s breadth away from him. If that was not enough, Jon made his life a lot more complicated when he made the decision of locking his eyes with hers. Her bright blue eyes were darker and dilated, her oh-so-full mouth was slightly parted, a few fiery red locks fell across her forehead and her breath was coming out in gasps as she looked at him from under long lashes that cast shadows on her cheeks.

_Look away, she’s Robb’s little sister_. Sexy, beautiful sister.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_ Robb will flay you, lynch you if you so much as touch her.  

_Just one touch…_ NOOOOO Don’t you dare, Snow.

As the doors of the elevators pinged open Jon was shaken out of his internal dialogues. Sansa started walking towards her apartment when Jon caught hold of her wrist and pulled her towards him. One side of him – had won.

“Sansa…” he said gently, looking into her eyes affectionately as he cupped her cheek surprisingly controlling his baser instincts to do more than just that. “Even if you implied something more, my friends, who can, I agree, be a terrible pain in the arse most of the times, are not the type to sit in judgement of you. They were enchanted by you, at least that much I can promise you.” His eyes dropped to her mouth and then with great difficulty he pulled them back to her eyes. “People find it very difficult to resist your charm, haven’t you noticed.”

If he just inclined his head now, just a little bit, he could taste her and the very thought that he’d almost done it made him jerk away from her. Sansa fumbled in her purse to find her keys as Jon awkwardly thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. Her phone pinged and she took it out instead. She looked at her phone, and a bright smile spread over her face, piquing Jon’s curiosity. She looked at him and her smile grew wider. “Well, I guess you were right.” She held her phone in front of him so he could see properly.

There were three notifications on her Instagram account.

_Samwell Tarly started following you._

_Edd Tollett started following you._

_Grenn Aurochs started following you._

 

Oh Bloody hell, was the only thought that came to Jon's head!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading!!


	6. Where's the party tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies, 
> 
> I am back after a long hiatus!! It's going to take me a while to get back to updating my fic as regularly as I used to, but I promise you I am trying!!Thank you for all the encouraging messages and love you've sent me over the months expressing concern over my health. Love you all!!
> 
> Thanks Melissa for reminding me time and again that I need to write. Also, nothing escapes your sharp eyes and I am thankful for it!! Hope you get all the love and success in life. 
> 
> Thanks Becky for so promptly correcting all the mistakes and making sure I include the commas, lol!! 
> 
> Thanks Neha, for telling me that you love my version of Jon and Sansa more than Canon!!
> 
> Thanks Amy and Melissa for the lovely lovely fic posters you've made for this fic, which I am unfortunately unable to attach to this fic here!!!

 

“Marg, I am really not sure about this,” Sansa looked very sceptically at her friend. It was true that Sansa had promised Margery Tyrell that she would accompany her to that party she was so determined to take her too, but Sansa was definitely having second thoughts now. Was that how she wanted to spend her birthday? With absolute strangers?

Sansa cast a longing glance at the glass cabin where the one non-stranger lay hidden under a pile of files buried entirely in his work. Jon Snow didn’t even know it was her birthday tomorrow. And why would he know? While all his friends had decided to follow her on Instagram, Jon had decided against it. Did he even have an account? – was actually the better question. Ever since he had taken her out to dinner with his friends, Jon was avoiding her as if she were the plague.

_Or that’s what you think?_

Said a voice in her brain and Sansa grimaced. He’s probably just very busy with work and girls. The last part of that thought didn’t sit too well with Sansa. An unbidden image of that blonde girl and Jon making out against his door came before her vision, and Sansa felt a sudden tightening in her stomach as her blood pounded through her veins. No way, she could not be jealous?

_Could she?_

Sansa shook her head vigorously as a shiver ran down her spine. She would be imprudent to encourage that line of thought even, disastrously foolish. Jon did not do serious relationships - everyone knew that.

_And you are not the type to have a fling with your brother’s best friend!_

UGH!

“Perhaps if you keep staring at him with these puppy eyes longingly, he might just throw a ‘bone’ in your direction,” Margery’s voice brought Sansa back from her thoughts and Sansa’s drawings scattered all over the place because of the intensity with which she swivelled her chair around to face her friend who was looking at her rather impishly. “And from whatever I’ve heard, it will be worth it.”

“What i-is wrong with y-you?” Sansa stuttered, looking here and there; everywhere else except at the knowing look her friend was wearing on her face along with her mischievous smile.

Margery placed her palm on Sansa’s shoulder to get her attention. “Just admit it, girl. You’ve got it bad for the bad boy of King’s Landing. And it’s not going to go away soon.”

UGH! Sansa looked at Margery from under hooded lashes, her guilt very apparent on her face. Margery just clapped her hands and pulled her chair closer to Sansa. “So what’s the problem? No one can resist your charm, Sansa Stark. Half the office is already drooling over you. How long do you think he’ll last?”

“Lower your bloody voice!” hissed Sansa, as she cast a glance around them to see if someone had overheard them. “Look, Marg, he and I, it’s never going to work… I’ve known him for a long time. He’s my brother’s best friend.” Sansa shrugged, slouching a bit. “He probably just thinks of me as Robb’s little sister.”

“Woah!” Margery cocked an eyebrow at her. “First of all, why are you only telling me this now, traitor?” Then she spontaneously broke into a smile. “Anyway, you’re forgiven because I know about your one dozen moral values and fear of us judging you for nepotism.”

Sansa laughed, as she shook her head with a smile of her own. Nothing could possibly get this girl down.

“But I still don’t understand what the problem is?” Margery’s confusion looked very genuine. “He’s your brother’s best friend, not your brother! And every time he looks at you, he looks like he wants to eat you raw…”

Sansa looked at her incredulously, a crease marring her forehead. “Where do you get these ideas from?” She looked back into her drawings, hurt that Margery would lie to her to make her feel better. “He doesn’t so much as look at me.”

“Ummm.. correction, darling!” Margery’s chuckle burst forth “He doesn’t do much _but_ look at you!”

What the hell was she talking about? Jon was not even visible among the files that he was buried in. It was almost like he had created a purposeful, physical wall between them, on purpose. Sansa didn’t bother glancing at her friend.

“Oh my god, dummy?” It seemed however like her friend was incorrigible. “Are you going to make me spell this out for you?” She shrugged in spite of Sansa saying a clear ‘NO’, “Alright, if I have to then, his eyes always search you out when he’s walking past us. I mean there’s a bloody bet going on between Jane and me about the number of times he’s going to stumble as he’s walking past you but anyway that’s beside the point. Where was I … Yes, He also can’t seem to help himself, like it’s an involuntary reaction. He almost growls when anyone from the opposite sex so much as greets you… Sansa, how can you remain so blind? Even Josh is staying away from you because he feels intimidated by your Hot Hades.”

Hot Hades!! Sansa had to place her palm on her mouth to muffle the laughter that was threatening to break out of her. She couldn’t believe Margery had called him that. _But it did suit him_.

“You should tell Josh, he has nothing to worry.” Sansa’s laughter died down at the thought of Jon intimidating Josh. Margery had no clue why he was doing that. “He’s just protective of me as my brothers. You see the truth is that all my brothers and cousins are hypocrites. They chase skirt all the time, except Robb because girls are forever chasing him, but that’s not the point. They feel that every other guy is out to do the same with their sister. Jon just spent too much time with them, and he is paranoid about what Robb will do to him if I get into some kind of trouble.”

In spite of Sansa explaining this to Margery, she was relentlessly giving Sansa that all-knowing look. “I’ll bet you anything he’s more worried about what your brother will do to him, if he could read his thoughts about you.” Sansa began to protest, but Margery held her hand up. “Alright. Alright. I give up. He’s not _into_ you.” Then her smile suddenly turned wolfish. “I mean. At least, not yet.”

Sansa whacked her arm playfully, donning a scolding look. “Get your head out of the gutter, Marg.” Margery stuck her tongue out, like a six-year old. “And get some work done.”

“Well, honey, we have to go to double H’s office,” Margery stared down at Sansa with a comical expression. For a moment Sansa didn’t understand who HH was? But when the corners of her friend’s mouth turned, Sansa knew exactly what the abbreviation stood for – HOT HADES. In other words – Jon Snow!

“Whatever for?” Sansa tried to keep her voice casual, but the prospect of meeting Jon excited her more than she cared to admit.

Margery rolled her eyes. “It’s about ‘the current challenge in architecture is to understand the rural world’ pet project that he is so obsessed about, especially the northern rural areas. And we need to give him a report about the R & D that is going to go into it. Or have you already forgotten about that, Northern Stark Princess?” She scrunched her nose a bit. “It’s why he has you working on this project, hasn’t he? Because you understand the north better.”

Sansa merely nodded. It was definitely the reason why Jon had assigned her to this project along with Margery and a few others. She not only understood the north in terms of geography but also its demographics and culture. She had a fair idea about these areas and the communities that resided there. Sansa got up from her chair knowing that they did need to brief Jon about the R & D they had to undertake.

Anticipation thrummed through her veins like liquid fire as she climbed step by step curving towards Jon’s office. Beside her, Margery seemed to have a definite spring in her step, which did nothing to regularise her heartbeat. God forbid, if she stuttered or fumbled in front of Jon, she wouldn’t hear the end of it, till the very end of her days. Also, she knew Margery was going to watch every single interaction between her and Jon like a hawk. Sansa smoothed the imaginary strands of hair that she thought were sticking out of her braid. She adjusted her white silk blouse and ironed an invisible crease in her black pencil skirt with her sweaty palms as they reached his office.

Jon had discarded the grey jacket of his suit, his tie had come off, the top-most button on his shirt lay open and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up, thus exposing to Sansa’s view his muscular forearms. He was wearing his spectacles and lightly biting the blunt end of a pencil, immersed in deep thought, looking very much like a student preparing for an exam. When Margery knocked at his door, he asked them to come in without looking up. Sansa allowed Margery to go in first. She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds before she took a robust, confident step to enter his office. She was Sansa Stark of Winterfell, she said to herself. Grace and poise were taught to her in her mother’s womb…

_Or perhaps not…_

Because in the next instant, Sansa’s heel got wedged into the carpet, but since she did not realise this, she took a step forward, _but her shoe did not_. The Result was that Sansa lost her balance, her limbs flailing around her like she was swimming in the air, and she headed towards the ground; only she did not land on it.

A strong pair of hands encircled her waist and broke her fall, as her hand went automatically around her saviour’s neck, clinging for support. When she opened her eyes, Jon’s face was just inches above hers his curly hair falling all over his face, one arm around her waist, the other around her back supporting her weight, and it really felt like he had executed a perfect dip, in the climactic moment of an impressive dance. She felt his breath on her face, and even with his spectacles on, she could see his grey dark grey eyes grow darker as they took in her features.

They travelled from the locks of her hair to her eyes and stopped at her lips. His grip on her tightened.

Suddenly a loud applause broke through. Jon instantly brought Sansa to a standing position, as they continued to hear some cheering from below. “Good save, boss!” someone cried and Sansa knew she was colouring like a beetroot. They had all seen her ungraceful fall and his graceful catch.

UGH! It was for moments like these that the saying – I wish the ground would swallow me up - was made.

Sansa hobbled towards her stuck shoe, cursing her choice in footwear for the first time in her life, trying to dislodge it with her other foot. The shoe didn’t budge. So she bent down to pull it out with her hands. One tug… nothing happened.

“Sansa?” She heard Jon’s extremely strained voice from behind her “Are you alright? Wait, let me get that for you.”

“No!” Another tug… nothing happened, but Sansa was not one to give up. “I can do this by myself, Jon,” She was going to kill Margery when they got out of Jon’s office for enjoying this whole charade without giving, leave alone a helping hand but even a little finger of help.

“Sansa, just listen to me,” Jon was almost pleading with her now, “Your back is turned towards the… what I mean is everyone can see your… err… I mean you…” Jon was not making any sense; he almost sounded angry. God! She was embarrassing him. But she needed that damn shoe! She put in all her might and tugged on it one last time.

With disastrous results…

Her shoe went flying into the air, towards the opposite wall, which was made of glass and hence promptly causing the glass to crack, causing fissures in them. This was not happening to her. The crowd accumulated below her looked more shocked than she was and then as if in slow motion – all eyes, including her own, moved towards Jon.

Jon slowly walked towards the cracked glass wall and picked up the fallen shoe. He then cast a hot glare at his employees who all scurried away like a sudden bomb scare had befallen on their office. Jon then slowly turned towards her, and Sansa’s hands flew to her mouth. He was going to fire her, for sure.

“J-Jon, I… am, s-so”

“Thank you, Sansa,” said Jon, stretching out the shoe in his hand towards her, “You’ve saved me from a great deal of embarrassment. Such low quality of glass, in Castle Black’s office? My materials supplier is going to get an earful. Probably get fired too! It’s really thanks to you,” he took Sansa’s hand, since she was incapable of doing it herself and placed the shoe in her hand, “..and your shoe, that I was made aware of this fact. I am deeply grateful to you.”

He went to sit behind his desk and Margery gave him the file. She cast Sansa an ‘I told you so’ look before her professional mask fell back in place. Sansa bent slowly and wore the cursed shoe. Jon was deeply engrossed in reading the file. After what seemed like ages, he looked up at them. “Like you’ve suggested, we need to get to know these communities in order to incorporate, from a contemporary perspective, their ways of living, materials, traditional techniques and vernacular forms to guide us to make friendlier, more respectful, harmonious decisions with the natural and social environment in which they are inserted.” He paused closing his eyes for a second, “I’d really like to take inspiration from the natural landscape and traditional construction, so for that phase of the research, put me down as a part of the team,” Jon shut the file and handed it back to Margery. “Anything else, Miss Tyrell, Miss Stark?”

“No. That would be all,” said Sansa

“Yes, there’s this one other thing,” said Margery

Sansa turned to look at Margery, slightly perplexed. Everything that needed to be discussed was over. She’d gone through the file herself; there was nothing that she could think of that needed to be discussed with…

“It’s Sans- I mean Miss Stark’s birthday on Saturday… that is tomorrow, Sir.”

Sansa stopped breathing; she stopped thinking; she stopped feeling. NO! Her ears were deceiving her. Margery had not spoken those words. Surely, she was trapped in a nightmare. One, she was going to wake from, at any moment. She just had to count. One Mississippi…  This could not be happening… two Mississippi …. Wake up! Wake up! GODDAMMIT!

Jon looked mortified, as he looked at Sansa, apparantly at a loss for words, just as she was. Sansa slowly turned to look at Margery who looked unaffected by Sansa’s death glare. She chirped on happily, “I know it’s unprofessional of me to ask you this during work hours, but we’re throwing a small party for her. This is her first year in King’s Landing, and we wanted to make her feel welcome. We’d really love if someone from her family like err… her siblings came too, but since they’re all tucked up at Winterfell, I was wondering, since Sansa told me that you’re her brother… I mean her brother’s best friend, we’d be delighted if you came to the party,” She paused giving Sansa a very tender motherly look, one Sansa knew was very fake, “As her family, Sir,”

Honestly, Sansa couldn’t decide if she wanted to burst out laughing or burst out crying – SHE WAS THAT ANGRY. What in the seven hells was Margery thinking? Telling Jon it was her birthday tomorrow, inviting him to the party? She had only written essays about ‘The day when everything went wrong’ when she was younger. Today, she was literally experiencing it. She dared to look at Jon who looked like he was in a similar dilemma – he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Sansa, darling?” Margery cooed sweetly, and Sansa thought of fifty different ways in which she was going to extract her revenge on Margery. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Sansa gritted her teeth but braced herself, “Umm… yes… This party … I would be really glad if you … ummm… could make it. But I can totally understand if this is a very short notice and you can’t change the plans that you’ve already made, because I know how important your commitments are to you.”

_I am giving you an escape route, Snow. Take it._

Jon looked down at his desk and then back up at Margery, “Could I have a moment alone with Miss Stark, Miss Tyrell,”

“Sure,” said Margery and dashed out of Jon’s office giving Sansa a discreet wink.

As soon as Margery left the office, Sansa felt like the air conditioning in Jon’s office had been turned off for she began sweating with the heat that surrounded them. Jon slowly took off his glasses, as his dark grey eyes bored into hers… no, not her eyes… but her soul. “Sansa, is this why your Dad called you asking you to come back to Winterfell? Because it’s your birthday and if I am not wrong, your first one away from home?”

Jon was no more her boss when he asked her this question. He was back to being the Jon she shared such a good rapport with. Sansa instantly relaxed and nodded her head in the affirmative. Jon shut his eyes for a second and then opened them. He gestured towards the chair opposite his desk for her to sit. She complied, feeling grateful.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Jon’s tone was not accusatory but was definitely raised. “And I don’t understand why you don’t want to go back to Winterfell. I know you enough to understand that you wouldn’t want to spend your birthday with random strangers.” Sansa who was looking down a second before immediately straightened her chin to look straight at Jon. She couldn’t believe he’d said out loud the very thing she’d thought in her head, just moments ago. Jon had now interlocked his fingers, his elbows resting on his desk as he leaned forward. “So why aren’t you going back home?”

Sansa’s lip trembled slightly. Could she tell him the truth? What she’d suspected? What Arya had confirmed?

“I can always call Robb and tell him….”

“NO!” Sansa almost shouted, and Jon looked slightly taken aback. Sansa lowered her voice. “Please Jon, don’t call Robb. I lied to him that I am working this weekend, and that he should convince Mum and Dad that it’s not possible for me to come home this weekend.”

A muscle twitched in Jon’s chiselled jaw, “All because of this party that you want to go to…”

“I don’t care about this idiotic party, I don’t want to go home because my mother wants to set me up with Alex Karstark and marry him as soon as possible so that she and her best friend Paula Karstark can rejoice that they’ve been successful matchmakers..”

Sansa let out a breath as she suddenly realised what she had admitted.

Jon looked thoroughly shocked. For two whole minutes, no one spoke a word. Sansa looked at Jon apologetically. “I shouldn’t have said all this. I panicked when you said you’ll speak to Robb. He obviously is oblivious to mum’s plans but it would hurt him if he knew that I lied to him. I am sorry…”

“There’s no need for you to apologise.” Jon’s features tightened as he combed his hair with his left hand. He looked almost skittish. “Ehem… this uh Alex whoever, is he your boyfriend?”

Sansa drew her brows together. “JON, you weren’t listening. I am running away from this guy. Do you think I would run away from a man I like?”

This seemed to pique Jon’s interest almost instantly. He got up from his desk and came to stand beside Sansa, sending her heart and senses into overdrive. His eyes blazed like wildfire when he looked at her, “Would you?” he asked her.

“Would I what?”

The corner of his mouth turned slightly, “Run away from the man you like?”

Sansa’s heart was now banging against her ribcage, and she was feeling dizzy. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she spoke, “I … er… of course not. I-I may be inexperienced but I am not a coward.” She slowly stood up too, now standing taller than him as he was half-sitting on his desk. “I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell. I don’t wait for what I want. I go get it.” She slowly took a step towards him, not taking her eyes off his face. “I have the blood of wolves flowing through my veins.” For one heated moment, they simply stared at each other.

In the next instant, Sansa burst out laughing. Jon however, didn’t look like he found anything funny. He folded his hands across his chest, causing his biceps to bulge as he continued to look at her with a poker face. Sansa was now wiping the tears from her eyes, “S-s-sorry Jon! B-but I couldn’t help myself. Y-You l-looked so serious when you w-were…”

“I was…”

Sansa looked at Jon, her laughter dying out completely at Jon’s tone. He now thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. “Sansa, do you want me to come to this party?”

“Jon, I don’t want to burden you. I know you’ll have plans this weekend, I mean everyone knows about the famous Jon Snow’s plans….” Sansa started babbling because she couldn’t admit even to herself that she so desperately wanted him to come.

“Yes or No” Jon stood to his full height, and Sansa took a step back.

“Y-Yes”, she said finally finding her voice though it strangely sounded like a hoarse whisper. “That is if you haven’t already made other plans with…”

“I’ll come,” he said effectively cutting off the rest of her words, and in the next instant, he was sitting behind his desk staring at a file. He looked up at her and smiled. “I am sure Ms Tyrell will text me the time and address. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sansa.”

Right, she was being dismissed. Bloody Hades! thought Sansa, gritting her teeth, as she walked out of his cabin. One moment he looked like he was going to kiss her, and in the very next moment, he looked like he was glad that he had nothing to do with her. Sansa was fuming when she reached her desk and it was no wonder that Margery was already waiting for her.

“One day, give or take,” said Margery as she put an arm around her agitated friend.

“For what?”

Margery pursed her lips. “For him to act upon his baser instincts, love!” She ducked as Sansa aimed a friendly punch at her. “Well don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you.”

Sansa cocked her brow. “If you have a bet running on this one, you’re definitely going to lose it.”

Margery rolled her eyes but pulled her friend into a warm hug. “Perhaps, I don’t care. It’s your birthday tomorrow, and I am going to ensure that you’re going to have a great one!”

In her head, Margery Tyrell the golden rose of High garden added, ‘Oh little dove, you have no idea what I have in store for you and that dragon-wolf of yours.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Two is company, three is crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies!!
> 
> I know my updates are coming slower but I will finish this story, believe me. Hope you enjoy reading this chapter!!
> 
> Melissa Alexander, my favourite fan-fic author, who has brilliant WIP's Like Gentle Rogue and In the company of wolves, makes my writing better, motivates me to write more and be a better person in general. Thanks love, like forever. 
> 
> Nothing escapes Becky's eyes and I am serious. Every single comma that I've added or deleted is because of her. I truly cherish our Brit Eng vs. American Eng discussions, Lol. Thanks Becky!! 
> 
> Neha, my sister, is really my partner in everything. We dream together, and she dreams for me too. I am always motivated to write because she believes in me more than I believe in myself. So Thanks, love. 
> 
> To Dena-1984 and Angelhug, and all the others who asked for this update - Thank you and hope you enjoy reading it!!

 

 

BOOM… BOOM… BOOM…

The music blared in Sansa’s ears so loudly that she was starting to get a headache. _Come on_ ; she urged herself on. _Enjoy this! This is what people at your age do_ , she told herself. _This is how they celebrate their birthdays_. _They dance; they get drunk and have fun. None of them wishes they were back home, curled up in their couch, reading their favourite book!_

But in spite of this reprimand that she was giving herself, Sansa couldn’t help but wonder what it could’ve been like if she had celebrated her birthday back at Winterfell. Her mother would’ve baked her favourite lemon cakes along with cooking a feast for her. Her dad and Robb would’ve loaded her with presents. Rickon would’ve perhaps forgotten her birthday, but Bran would’ve reminded him. Arya would have, in all probability, dumped a bucket of water on her face in the morning to wake her up. Sansa laughed as the thought passed her mind, though she probably would’ve chased Arya screaming like a banshee if such an event had actually occurred.

Sansa sighed softly taking in her surroundings. This was everything she’d wanted – Flashing lights, freedom, fun, music, life – to be far away from the cold of the dreary north, to be away from her overprotective family and yet here she was missing them – every single one of them. Beside her, Margery swayed - her arms around a random stranger who was looking like he was having the time of his life. She cast a sideward glance at Sansa and then whispered something into her partner’s ear who instantly gave Sansa an ugly scowl. She disentangled herself from the man and put her arm around Sansa.

“What happened birthday girl?” She cooed, pulling into a side-hug. “This place… not up to the mark?”

“No, No. Not at all…” Sansa instantly shook her head. She didn’t want Margery to think that she wasn’t grateful to her for arranging such an extravagant party. “This place is amazing. I’ve always only heard about southern clubs, but this is really something else.”

Margery took in her words with a knowing smile. “I’m sensing that there is a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

When Sansa looked at her intelligent friend, she realised that there was no point in lying to her. “I really want to enjoy this, Marg. But I can’t help but wonder if a small get together in my apartment, where I didn’t have to shout hoarse to simply say ‘hello’ to my friends is more my kinda thing…”

Margery laughed at that and kissed her temple and shouted on top of her voice into Sansa’s ear. “Of course I know. _That_ is more your kind of a thing but honey, and this is Hot Hades’s... oops … I mean Mr Snow’s favourite hangout spot. Shouldn’t you know what the man you’re drooling all over likes or dislikes?”

_Jon Snow_ ….his very name caused Sansa’s heart to beat louder than the bloody music that the DJ was spinning. Sansa was thankful that it was so dark on the dance floor or else Margery’s shrewd eyes would’ve definitely picked up the blood that rushed up enthusiastically to colour her face. Speaking about  Jon, where the hell was he? Perhaps he’d decided not to come after all. Neither had his gang of friends – Edd, Sam and Grenn arrived. Had they all decided that it was more fun elsewhere instead of here?

But at least his friends had all called to wish her. Jon hadn’t! Not even a text. All her other office colleagues including, Josh and Margery had arrived on time. They’d even made a toast to her, all of which Jon had completely missed. Sansa looked down at her blush pink gown that kissed her knees with nude studded heels. All for naught! Sansa couldn’t admit to herself that the dragging feeling in the pit of her stomach was that of utter disappointment. She knew that she was going to sound flimsy, but she said it anyway. “I am not drooling all over Jon!”

Margery looked like she was going to say something else but then shrugged and said, “Perhaps, you’re right? I am maybe overthinking this.” She then waved at someone behind Sansa and asked them to come over. “But I still promised you a good time on your birthday, didn’t I?”

“Please tell me this gorgeous lady is Sansa Stark, Marg!” a deep voice rumbled behind her ear and Sansa instantly turned towards the source of the sound.

Blue eyes, blond hair, a full smiling mouth, a muscular frame, lean hips - Sansa wondered if her brain had just described Apollo the sun god. This man who stretched his hand out was the very definition of handsome, but somehow he didn’t affect Sansa as her Hades did.

_UGH! Stop using Margery’s references from Greek Mythology._

Sansa took the man’s hand, but instead of shaking it, he quickly turned it around to brush his lips on her knuckles in a very gentlemanly fashion. Yet, no tremors felt! The Man looked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling with interest. “It’s my good fortune to wish the most beautiful woman in the world – a very happy birthday, no offence little sis.”

“None taken,” said Margery, as she enveloped her brother in a giant hug. The deep affection that ran between them was obvious even in the dim, blinking light. Sansa observed Margery’s brother, Wilas Tyrell, from the corner of her eye. His Navy Jacket and maroon shirt tucked in a pair of jeans that hugged his strong legs gave her the impression of a man who liked to dress well. He turned his attention back at Sansa, and she smiled at him. Margery nudged him with her elbow, and Wilas stepped forward. “Come Sansa, let’s dance.” He stretched his hand out and for a fleeting second, Sansa gave Margery a very confused look. What was she playing at? Was she really trying to set Sansa up with her brother in spite of very accurately suspecting Sansa’s feelings for Jon?

As Wilas led Sansa to the centre of the dance-floor Sansa began to feel nervous. “I’m not sure I know all the moves…” she said, working her lower lip.

Wilas let out a friendly chuckle. “Relax, Sansa. Just follow my moves, and by the way, I feel like this is a good time to tell you that I am not trying to hit on you.”

Sansa looked at him, shocked at his admission.

Apparently, this amused him some more. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, curling his hand around Sansa’s waist and pulling her closer to his body. “You are the most desirable creature I’ve ever seen, and I can appreciate it without getting disturbing horny signals from my body because I’m gay, my love.”

Sansa instantly relaxed in his arms and gave him an affable smile which he returned with vigour. In moments that passed, Sansa suddenly felt like she was beginning to enjoy this party, thanks to Wilas. He was wonderful company. Realising that the music was blaring in her ears, Wilas took her to a remote corner where there were fewer enthusiastic people grinding their bodies against each other. They kept talking into each other’s ears and Sansa soon realised what a wonderful sense of humour Wilas had. He made her laugh while spinning her body with his, perfectly to the music.

“So tell me something, Wil…” Sansa was feeling a bit woozy with all the dancing, so Wilas took her to the bar to get her a drink. “Why are you dancing with me, instead of scouring for a suitable partner?”

Wilas instantly scrunched his face displaying mock hurt. “You just broke my heart, love,” he laughed. “Nah! It’s my sister’s orders, actually, though I must say that I am thoroughly enjoying my time with you.”

Suddenly something felt wrong and Sansa belt a burgeoning sense of foreboding creeping up her neck.  “Your sister’s orders? I don’t understand…”

Wilas creased his brows and waved his hand like he was swatting a fly. “Oh, I don’t know. She kept rambling about bringing a god down to his knees or something like that. I assumed that you were in for an uncomfortable encounter with some ex-lover. I of course voluntarily agreed to be your knight in shining armour.” Wilas brushed her cheeks lightly with his thumb and Sansa felt a tremor run down her body. A feeling that she was being watched crept through her and she felt the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up. But first, she had to clear Wilas’s confusion.

“I am sure there’s been a misunderstanding, Wil,” said Sansa, taking a step towards him. “I don’t have an ex. Margery must’ve meant something else.” Sansa scoffed, “And this God who needs to be brought down to his knees is just bull…”

Before she could complete her sentence Wilas’s phone beeped. He held it to Sansa’s face, “No misunderstanding, love. Read this!”  Sansa squinted into the screen and instantly balked as she read the words her traitorous friend had typed.

_He’s here and approaching fast. You may now kiss the bride._

Panic gripped Sansa’s body like a python wrapping itself around its prey. Even before Sansa could make sense of what’s happening, Wilas Tyrell drew her into the circle of his arms with a mischievous wink, “Let’s bring that god of yours down to his knees, shall we?” And with that, he dipped his head to kiss her full on the mouth.

Only, his mouth never reached hers…

Sansa was physically yanked back from Wilas’s embrace as her back connected with a hard wall with an audible thud. Or at least that’s what Sansa thought until she registered the presence of a powerful arm coiled around her waist in an iron grip and just like that, she knew. She knew, even without having to turn back, exactly _who_ it was, holding her in place in such an intimate manner.

JON SNOW, dressed in all black – black denims, black shirt and a black blazer was looking at Wilas with absolute fury blazing in his eyes. Perhaps, if he opened his mouth, he would breathe fire. His lips snarled, his nose twitched as he was trying to regain some composure. “If you touch her one more time, it will be the last second of your life.”

Sansa had to give some credit to Wilas. He actually had the audacity to look bored when she was practically quacking in Jon’s arms. But not Wilas. He rolled his eyes, “I was not touching the lady against her wishes. Tell him, darling.”

Jon pulled her more firmly – almost possessively – against his body upon hearing Wilas addressing her with an endearment. His other arm turned her around to face him slowly. The look that he gave her, Sansa almost swooned – such was its intensity.

“Is this true?” Jon was desperately searching her eyes for something. “Are you with this … this joker by will?”

Anger flashed in Sansa’s blue eyes before she could quell the urge. How dare he call Wilas a joker? She raised her chin and cocked her brow. “Wilas is my friend, Jon. He’s been nothing but a thorough gentleman all evening. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“A friend?” Jon cocked his brow and pulled her flush against him, and a whimper almost escaped from Sansa’s lips. The way Jon was looking at her, the way he was holding her so intimately without bothering that half of his office staff, and his friends were watching them like hawks – it did things to her body and addled her brains. Jon’s face was a heartbeat away from Sansa’s, “Do you kiss all your friends, Sansa?” He drawled, and Sansa felt his hot breath on her mouth, and it opened on its own accord.

“I – J-Jon, t-this is.. l-let go of me…”

“NO,” Jon said firmly, as one of his hands trailed up her back to hold the nape of her neck. “I am your friend too, aren’t I?” His tone was taunting, but his voice was husky, deep and caressing and now it almost dropped to a whisper as he slightly dipped his head, “Will you kiss me too?”

_Will you kiss me too… Will you kiss me too… Will you kiss me too…_ The question echoed in her brain several times.

_YES… YES… YES_ … her body yelled back, but her mind still battled. This was Jon, Robb’s best friend. He was a player, a Casanova and she had seen it with her own eyes. She didn’t want her stupid crush on him to spoil whatever relationship he shared with the Starks. He wanted her; she could see it in his eyes. And if she gave in to her raging desire for him and had a fling with him because Jon couldn’t possibly offer anything else, Robb would never forgive him.

“J-Jon… R-Robb will…” Sansa stuttered as she tried to voice her concern but she didn’t have to say anything further because, at that very instant, Jon released her, like she’d burnt him. He was running his hands through his hair, cursing audibly, punching his hand on a wall nearby. Sam, who’d been watching all this from afar with Edd and Grenn, came and said something to Jon to which he simply nodded. When he turned to look at her she could see the guilt written all over his face. He first took a step towards Wilas and stretched his hand out in a gesture of apology, “Sorry, man. I am Jon Snow.  Her brother is my best friend, and I’ve known her all my life. Have to look out for her.”

Wilas now definitely looked surprised at Jon’s changed demeanour but he shook his hand affably, nevertheless. “I understand.” He simply said.

Jon now turned towards Sansa, looking down at his shoes and then back up at her. “Sansa, I was not thinking straight… I had absolutely no right to…It’s your birthday today, dammit, and I just ruined it.”

Sansa couldn’t bear it. Jon – apologising twice in one minute. This really had to be a new record. One - that was tugging at all the strings in her heart. “You don’t have to apologise, Jon. I get it, really. There was no way you could’ve known in which way the wind was blowing. And really, you’ve not ruined my birthday.”

Jon clenched his jaw as he stepped closer to Sansa. “I am a terrible, terrible friend.”

“Ummm… Correction… You’re a terrible, terrible big brother’s BFF” Wilas commented, and everyone including Sansa, Jon, Sam, and Margery who had come to witness this exchange between Jon and Sansa, fixed him with a glare. But when Sansa turned to look at Jon, some tension in the air had thankfully evaporated.

“Happy birthday, Sansa,” said Jon and he bent down to kiss her cheek, and Sansa felt like the touch of his lips had branded her. When Jon drew back, his eyes looked clouded and stormy. “I’m sorry that… er… that I didn’t buy you anything. I have a late night meeting, and I have to get back to it. So have fun!”

“You’re leaving for a meeting on a Saturday?” Sansa asked even before she could stop herself. She mentally kicked herself. She and her cursed mouth!

Jon looked at her quizzically for a second. “Yes, that’s why I am late, and it’s why I have to go right now.” Then he looked back at his friends. “But they’ll be staying. Have fun, Sansa.” And just like that Jon turned his back on her and left.

For a few seconds, Sansa did nothing but stare at his retreating back. She wanted to shout at him; she wanted to tell him that she’d rather spend her birthday with him than with anyone else. His every touch had caused her to ache for more. She couldn’t think straight anymore. She only blinked out of her trance when a palm gently touched her shoulder. It was Sam.

“Happy Birthday, Sansa,” he said, casting a wary glance at Wilas, “Sorry we’re late, but Jon absolutely insisted that…” He stopped talking when Edd looked at him sternly. Sansa got the feeling that she was missing something here. But Sam recovered immediately. “Er… I mean he insisted that we all go together, and he was stuck in that damn meeting of his all day.”

“Of course, meetings are more important than poor old Robb’s little sister’s birthday.” Perhaps it was the alcohol that was loosening her tongue. She instantly regretted her choice of words when she saw Sam’s face colouring. “Forgive me, Sam. I… j-just thought Jon would stay for longer.” Why couldn’t she stop speaking?

Sam’s face turned purple like he desperately wanted to say something but couldn’t. Margery chose that moment to loop her arm around Sansa’s waist and drag her away to a secluded corner. Sansa flashed her eyes at her, “You arranged for this whole thing to happen?”

Margery smiled unabashedly, “Of course, I did. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s worked brilliantly.”

Sansa looked at her unable to fathom why Margery was smiling so brilliantly when she felt like her whole world would come crashing down.

Upon realising Sansa’s predicament, Margery let out a sigh. “It’s obvious to everyone now that Hot Hades has the hots for you.” She feigned a scared look. “I mean, I almost put my own brother’s life on the line to prove this much to you. You should’ve seen the look on the dragon’s face when he saw you in Wilas’s arms. It looked like he might burn the whole place down.”

“Marg, you don’t understand Jon,” Sansa’s voice had almost turned hoarse with all the shouting and all the emotions that were going through her. “He’s just being protective about me because he’s Robb’s…”

“Oh don’t give me this bullshit!” Margery raised a palm to Sansa’s face. “Girl, just admit it. He wants you under him,” She paused holding Sansa’s chin, looking straight into her eyes, “And you want him too!”

Sansa felt breathless. It was the truth – a truth she’d been running away from for quite some time. She wanted Jon so bad that it was a torture to be anywhere around him. Her entire body was on high alert the second he stepped into any room. His magnetic pull on her couldn’t be denied anymore. But Jon didn’t do relationships; and Sansa didn’t do one night stands. Plus there was the whole complication of Jon’s relationship with the Starks. But need for him was coursing through her stronger than any other emotion or thought.

She very faintly heard Margery’s words like it came from a faraway place, “So honey, whatcha gonna do, now?”

                                                                       ******

Jon drove back home at break-neck speed like he had a death wish upon him. _Tonight_ had been a near disaster. Jon hit the brakes as soon as he reached a red light. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down and shut his eyes.

_Sansa_ \- was all he could see.

Jon’s eyes flew open. Green light; it was time to go. But where could he go? Could he outrun himself?

Jon cursed himself mentally for the complete lack of control he had displayed tonight. He had surprised himself more than anyone else. He could still recall the events of the day so vividly. It was Sansa’s birthday, and for some reason, he’d been hyper-aware of this fact from the time he opened his eyes in the morning. He’d picked up his phone and dialled her number at 6:00 am to wish her but had stopped himself from doing that just at the nick of time. God, he didn’t want to be her rooster. So he’d typed out a text instead and then deleted it before sending. Sansa was dear to him. A text message would look very impersonal.

And so he’d spent the better part of the day trying to think about what he should gift her. Jewellery was the first thing that came to his mind. All the girls he’d slept with were forever drooling over jewellery. He thought of buying her a diamond bracelet – something that accentuated her slender wrist. Of course, thinking about just her wrist had done various things to his body, and he’d had to force himself to drive away the picture out of his mind.

Somehow, the idea of buying a piece of jewellery for Sansa didn’t appeal to Jon very much. Though Sansa had a great fashion sense, and Ned and Cat did spoil her with a lot of gifts, Sansa was never attached to the value of the gifts. He still remembered that when Arya and Sansa had had a fight, and Arya had chucked Sansa’s trunk of collectables out of the window, in typical Arya style, Sansa had cried her eyes out not because her expensive crystal ballerina shattered into pieces but because the first clay pot that Rickon had made in pre-school and gifted it to Sansa had broken.

So Jon had thought hard about what she’d treasure the most and had tried his level best to picture what a teenage Sansa had been busy doing? Various images flashed in front of his eyes and Jon had been taken aback by the amount of things he recollected about her.

_Sansa dragging a muddy Arya from beating up some boy, Sansa helping her mother and her Aunt in the kitchen, Sansa immersed nose deep in a murder mystery novel, Sansa taking a walk with her grandfather…_

And just like that, Jon had known what he should buy for Sansa. Only, the task was extremely difficult. But now that the idea had taken root, Jon hadn’t been willing to compromise on it. If anyone could get this done for him, it was Sam. With some amount of reluctance, especially because of the word wife-zone that had been coined for his benefit and dangerously dangling around him, Jon had called Sam who had sounded like he was supressing a laugh while speaking to Jon.

However, thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions. The task was difficult but not impossible to achieve. By the time Sam, Edd and Grenn had met him outside the club where Margery Tyrell had organised Sansa’s birthday, it was terribly late. Jon avoided the looks his friends gave him as he deposited the package in his car. He was going to give Sansa her gift when he drove her back home.

But of course, destiny had other plans!

Jon sighed as he pulled his car into the parking lot of his apartment building, and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Beside him, the package wrapped in brown paper was left untouched. Blood drummed through his veins when he thought about what had transpired just moments ago. Seeing Sansa in the arms of another man, a sight he hadn’t expected, had brought forth a monster from within him, he never thought existed. The second the man’s arm had connected with Sansa’s waist, Jon had started walking towards them with every intention of throwing him against a wall and choking the life out of him. _How dare he touch Sansa?_

But when the man had dipped his head to kiss her, every single sane thought that remained in Jon’s mind had fled away on the spot. He had physically extracted Sansa from the man’s embrace and held her to him and if he had to be honest with himself – the feeling of her against him, his hand possessively coiled around her waist, had felt so damn right. Desire, like never before, spurted forth from his very being, pervading his senses and squishing any chance for rational thinking.

Jon got out of his car and headed straight for the gym. He was going to punish his body until it was too exhausted to react to Sansa. Jon changed into his spare active-wear that he always kept inside his locker and hit the treadmill, setting a pace for himself that was usually reserved for Olympic runners. Yet, thoughts of Sansa wouldn’t leave him.

When he had held her flush against him and looked into her dazzling blue eyes, Jon knew he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his entire life. The entire club had faded around him, the loud music had dimmed down to the sound of a heartbeat and all he could see was Sansa – her glossy red hair, her dilated blue eyes, her creamy smooth skin, her full mouth…

_“Will you kiss me too?”_

 When he’d asked her this, it was never meant to be a question because Jon had had every intention of devouring her mouth without waiting for an answer from her, without caring about who was watching. If Sansa hadn’t taken Robb’s name when she had, he would’ve probably taken her on the dance floor.

Jon hit the stop button on the treadmill. He was completely covered in sweat and panting like a dying man but it didn’t seem to have any effect on the thrumming desire he was feeling for Sansa. So he chastised himself by having a shower in absolute cold water. He was going to hit the pool next. Swim until all thoughts of Sansa drowned to the bottom of the pool. Swim until his body was as cold as a fish, unaffected by the heat that her very name ignited in him.

As he connected with ice-cold water of the pool, in his mind, Jon thanked Sansa for taking Robb’s name when she did. God, just thinking about Robb had brought forth a surge of guilt in him that had allowed him to think straight, even if it was just for a few moments. The only reason Sansa was here in King’s landing was because Robb trusted Jon, in spite of his reputation. Robb knew very well that Jon never did relationships and he was certain that Jon wouldn’t take advantage of his sister in any way. What a betrayal of trust it would’ve been if Jon had acted upon his urges! He didn’t think he could live with the repercussions of his action.

Jon felt slightly calmer after finishing thirty laps. Whatever happens, happens for the good. Sansa should not be with a man like him who has absolutely nothing to offer. He had vowed very long ago that he would never get into any kind of a serious relationship with anybody. His mother’s relationship with his father had completely destroyed his faith in an institution like marriage. When he was twelve years old, his mother had discovered that his father, Rhaegar Targaryen was already married and had two children and though his mother had been very strong in the beginning, and initiated a divorce changing Jon’s name from Jon Targaryen to Jon Snow, she kept succumbing to her love for the man she married, subsequently. He was her weakness and came running to her every time he was down in the dumps and she couldn’t seem to tell him NO.

As Jon got out of the pool and headed for a hot shower to shock his body with the hot and cold therapy, he recollected how at a very young age, he had sworn that would never do serious relationships, never marry and never let anyone become his weakness. Jon put on a robe and headed towards the elevator that directly opened into his apartment. A special elevator, only he could use, the special perks of owning an empire he’d built brick by brick because he didn’t have the distractions of the heart.

Jon entered his apartment and looked around. In spite of its state-of-art décor, his house looked dull and lifeless to him. A picture of Sansa moving in her warm, bright kitchen humming to herself flashed before his vision and Jon had to conjure every ounce of his will to drive that thought out of his head. It was with great difficulty that he’d managed to achieve some sanity and he was not going to let go of that. Jon put on, just a pair of dark-grey track pants and headed to the bar to pour himself a large peg of scotch.

Sansa was better off without him, and he would do well to remember that in future. There was no place for her in his life, and this was definitely just a passing phase.

Jon drained the entire scotch in one gulp and welcomed the burning it caused in his throat. He felt instantly calmer.

Jon smiled for the first time after a long time. Finally, he was rid of his desire for her. Finally, logic had prevailed. Finally he had his mind, body and senses under his control! His resolve was firmer than ever and he revelled in that feeling.

 

What was that? Jon heard a click, like the closing of a door and turned around sharply at the sound.

Standing inside his living room, in all her glory, was none other than SANSA STARK, the spare key to his apartment dangling from her finger, the pink gown hugging her slender curves.

_Fuck!_

Jon’s feet moved automatically towards her, and he noted the way she was nervously chewing on her lower lip – her luscious lower lip.

_Fuck!_

It was like a switch had been turned on inside his body, electricity crackling through it. Jon suddenly realised that he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt, and his upper body was open to the cursory examination of her desire laden blue eyes. A realisation hit him with full force - she wanted him too!

_Fuck!_

His previous firm resolve and false pacification lay forgotten in a dump somewhere at the back of his mind as Jon prowled towards Sansa like a predator towards its prey. “What are you doing here, Sansa?” he managed to ask but his voice sounded hoarse – hoarse with desire.

Sansa lowered her lashes like she was gathering some courage, and then stepped towards him looking him in the eye. Jon thought he’d never seen a vision as beautiful as her in his entire life. “I came here b-because I wanted my birthday gift from you.”

Jon creased his brows in confusion. Did Sam tell her about it? He wouldn’t have dared. Jon had decided against it when he had left her to her own devices and left the party. “I told you earlier, I don’t have anything to give you.” A little bit of the truth won’t hurt, in whichever way she took it.

Sansa tucked a stray red strand behind her ear and Jon clenched his fists in a painful grip to keep himself from closing the gap between them and crush her into his arms.

_Fuck!Fuck!_

Sansa’s lip trembled slightly as she spoke and her breathing came out in huffs. “Yes, there is something you can give me,” she said, closing the gap between them and putting her arms around his neck. He was a goner - he knew it before she said the next words.

“Take me to bed, Jon Snow,”

Every sense of logic was gone, every sense of rationality fled, every reason why he should not do this bolted from the recesses of his mind as a low growl escaped his throat when he pulled her body flush against his and captured her mouth in a soul-crushing kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Melissa, for putting up with me and agreeing to be my beta and helping me through this. Love ya!


End file.
